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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


IDLE    MOMENTS 

IN    FLORIDA 

GEORGE   V.  HOBART 


IDLE    MOMENTS 

IN   FLORIDA 


BY 

GEORGE    V.    HOBART 


NEW  ^sr  YORK 

GEORGE   H.   DORAN   COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,   I92I. 
BY  GEORGE  H.   DORAN  COMPANY 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


TO 
MY   FRIENDS,   THE    ROTARIANS, 

IN   ST.   AUGUSTINE 


Thanks  are  extended  to  the  St.  Augus 
tine  Record  for  permission  to  reprint 
some  of  the  articles  contained  herein. 

G.  V.  H. 


462430 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


ON  THE  WAY  . 13 

WITH  UNCLE  GILBERT 23 

ST.  AUGUSTINE 31 

Music  HATH  CHARMS 44 

PALM  BEACH 55 

SNAP  SHOTS 65 

MIAMI 73 

MR.  EIDEL  WEISS 82 

COME  YE  BACK! 88 

THE  BOOK  OF  Ro  TARY 92 


IDLE    MOMENTS 

IN    FLORIDA 


IDLE   MOMENTS 

IN  FLORIDA 


ON  THE  WAY 

Say! 

Did  you  ever  bid  a  gay 
And  fond  farewell 
To  a  Northern  Cold  Spell, 
Grab  your  hat, 
Leave  the  Bliz  flat 
And  breeze  off  to  Florida 
Where  it's  torrid?    Ah  I 
That's  a  pleasurable  jaunt! 
And  all  you  want 
To  make  it  complete 
Is  a  neat 
Package  of  Kale 
So  you  can  be  a  hale 
Fellow  well  met 
When  you  get 
Up  against  the  Hotel  Bill, 
Which  will 
Peek 

Around  corners  at  you  and  seek 
You  out;  it  doesn't  matter  where 
13 


14     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

You  may  hide,  it  will  stare 

At  you  and  haunt 

You  unless  you  flaunt 

Good  Coin  in  its  presence  and  chase 

It  away  by  throwing  in  its  face 

A  handful  of  Iron  Men, 

Then 

It  will  get  up  and  leave 

The  room  and  you  can  heave 

A  deep  sigh, 

Or  the  water  pitcher,  and  try 

To  forget  the  horrors  it  brings 

When  it  rings 

Your  bell— 

For,  truth  to  tell, 

There's  only  one  manner  in  which  to  Kill 

A  Hotel  Bill, 

And  that  is  to  pour  Kale 

On  its  tail 

Until  it  screams  for  mercy. 

What  a  curse  he 

Put  upon  mankind,  the  gink  who 

Drew 

The  plans  and 

Specifications  for  the  first  grand 

Fashionable  Hotel  Bill, 

And  taught  travelers  to  spill 

Their  coin  in  a  Landlord's  till  I 

Well,  be  that  as  it  may! 

I  started  out  to  say 

That  it's  a  gay 

Jaunt  down  Florida  way  I 


ONTHEWAY  15 

In  the  first  place 

The  train  service  is  a  case 

Of  wait 

For  eight 

Weeks  or  more 

Before 

You  can  get  the  sales  gent 

In  the  Ticket  Office  to  consent 

To  part 

With  a  smart 

Little  Lower ; 

And  he's  much  slower 

If  you  have  a  great 

Deal  of  money  and  want  a  state 

Room,  because  of  the  loud 

Murmuring  crowd, 

Clamoring  in  front  of  the  wicket 

Which  separates  the  ticket 

Sellers 

From  the  yellers 

Who  are  wildly  offering  gold 

And  precious  stones  and  every  old 

Thing 

For  a  chance  to  fling 

The  grip-sack 

In  the  rack, 

And  hear  the  Conductor  shout,  "All 

A'board!"— it's  the  Call 

Of  the  Sunny 

South ! — and  if  you  have  the  money 

It's  some  joyous  way 

To  burn  it — say  I 


16     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

Did  you  ever  glide 

Through  the  Carolinas  and  slide 

Past  the  Georgia  cotton-fields  in 

A  Train  de  Luxe?    It's  a  sin 

If  you  haven't  ridden 

In  a  Happy  Wagon  with  your  feet  hidden 

In  a  plush 

Carpet;  where  you  blush 

With  pride 

As  you  slide 

Into  a  barber's  chair 

And  have  your  hair 

Trimmed  all  the  way 

From  Washington,  D.  C.,  to,  let  us  say, 

Raleigh,  N.  C. 

Geel 

What  a  trimming  you  can  get 

On  one  of  those  pet 

De  Luxe  trains 

Where  it  simply  rains 

Luxury,  and  all  that! 

And  what  a  fat 

Chance  your  face  has  when 

Now  and  then 

The  cars  swerve 

Around  a  curve 

And  the  barber  slips 

And  chips 

A  slice 

Off  the  north-eastern  end  of  your  nice 

Home-made  chin; 

But  you  must  grin 


ONTHEWAY  17 

And  bear 

It,  remembering  that  the  fare 

Is  only  ten  dollars 

A  minute  more,  and  he  who  hollers 

Is  a  piker,  anyway ! 

Say! 

If  by  one  of  Fortune's  flukes 

You  get  rich,  grab  a  De  Luxe  I 

You'll  love  it! 

To  the  roof  above  it 

In  each  car 

Are 

Elevators — oh,  yes! 

There  must  be,  else  why  do  they  assess 

Each  passenger  a  Liberty  bond 

For  the  fond 

Privilege  of  riding  therein? 

And  you  can  take  a  spin 

In  your  roadster  on  the  fast  track 

Just  back 

Of  and  behind 

The  engine  before  it  joins  the  blind 

Baggage  car; 

And  there  are 

Also  delightful  promenades  where  one 

Or  two  may  run 

Or  stroll 

And  tell  droll 

Stories  as  the  train  speeds 

Into  the  night,  and  if  one  needs 

A  bath,  there 

Must  be  a  swimming  pool  somewhere 


18     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

On  the  De  Luxe,  and  for  exercise 

A  delightful  bowling  alley,  otherwise 

Why  all  those  loud  cries 

For  extra  fares? 

At  any  rate,  there's 

A  gold-plaited  observation  car 

Where  the  trained  porters  are 

Crowded  coyly  in  the  dust  room, 

Forever  pointing  a  whisk-broom 

In  your  direction  and  singing 

In  ringing 

Accents,  "Doan  slip  me  nickels, 

Doan  slip  me  dimes; 

Dese  yer  days  is 

Mighty  ha'd  times! 

I  brush  yo'  clothes, 

Slip  me  a  dollah ! — 

Make  it  six  bits 

And  I  ain't  gwiner  hollah! — 

Hallelujah — hallelujah — amen !" 

But  then 

When 

One  travels  de  luxe  one  must  do 

As  the  other  de  luxers  and  strew 

Backsheesh  from  Broadway 

To  Bimini  Bay, 

Fla. 

If  not, 

You've  got 

To  join  the  Crab  Contingent  and  be 

As  close  as  the  bark  on  a  tree — 

But  the 


ONTHEWAY  19 

Bark  on  a  tree  doesn't  travel,  so 

It  can  set  no 

Good  example  to  mankind; 

And  you'll  find 

Nowadays 

That  it  pays 

To  place  alms 

In  outstretched  palms, 

Otherwise  you'll  miss  boats,  trains,  ferries, 

Early  strawberries, 

Good  seats  in  the  bald-headed  row 

For  a  girl  show, 

And  you'll  grow 

To  hate  yourself 

If  you  cold-storage  your  pelf; 

And  no  bell-hop 

Will  ever  stop 

And  hint 

That  he  has  a  blue  print 

Of  just  how  to  get  you  a  gill  of  grog; 

And  you'll  jog 

Through  life  with  a  bitter  taste 

In  your  mouth  if  you  don't  waste 

An  occasional  dime 

And  chime 

In  with 

A  reluctant  quarter  when  Smith, 

The  waiter,  bespeaks 

You  a  hopeful  "Good  Evening!"  and  seeks 

To  know  if  he 

Shall  put  a  few  ice  in  your  iced-tea, 

Or  more  chicory 


20     IDLE 


In  your  yellow  coffee ; 
For  if,  in  parsimony's  name,  you  lay  off,  he 
Will  probably 
Put  the  ice 
In  his  nice 

Clean,  white  (maybe)  vest  pocket  and  stray 
Away 

Out  of  your  life  forever. 
But  never 

Be  it  said  that  I  wade  knee- 
Deep  in  philosophy 
All  day  when  we 
Are  on  a  trip  to  Florida — so 
Let's  go! 
From  the  mo 
You  arrive  in  the  Land 
Of  Sunshine  and  Flowers  and  stand 
In  the  grand 
Little  depot  in  Jax. 
The  climate  backs 

Into  your  presence  with  a  hearty  "How  d'ye  1" 
No  rowdy 

Breeze  from  the  North  is  there; 
The  air 

Is  full  of  soft,  cooing  zephyrs  that  stare 
In  well-bred  surprise 
At  the  size 
Of  your  overcoat, 
And  then  float 
Around  and  sneer  a  little  at 
That 
Red,  gray,  green  and  blue 


ON    THE    WAY  21 

Muffler  you 

Have  wrapped  around  your  epiglottis — 

They're  hep  how  hot  is 

The  burden  you're  carrying, 

And  they're  tarrying 

To  see  you  open  the  muffler  and  try 

To  get  into  High 

Without  the  Polar  Bear  Benny 

Or  any 

Of  those 

Northern  warmth-coazer  clothes 

During  your  brief  stay 

In  Jax.    Say! 

Jax  is  the  way 

You  mention  Jacksonville  when 

You're  short  of  breath,  d'ye  ken? 

And  so 

Let's  go  I 

Off  through  jungle  lands  afar 

In  our  de-luxified  car; 

With  a  blue  sky 

On  high 

Smiling  o'er  a  Land  of  Romance 

Where  sunbeams  dance 

On  distant  waters;  where 

The  air 

Is  like  rare 

Old  wine; 

Where  the  snuggling  vine 

Entwines 

The  Pines; 

Where  gray 


22     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

And  hoary  mosses  in  wild  disarray 

Have  hung 

Among 

The  oaks  since  Time  was  young. 

Where  the  throbbing  throats 

Of  wild  birds  sing  sweet  notes 

Of  welcome,  and  where 

Care 

May  be 

Buried  so  easily 

In  yielding  sand 

In  the  Land 

Of  Happy  Hours — 

Of  Sunshine  and  of  Flowers. 


WITH  UNCLE  GILBERT 

When  Uncle  Gilbert  Hawley  learned  that  we  con 
templated  spending  several  weeks  in  Florida  he 
invited  us  to  come  straightway  to  his  mansion  in  St. 
John's  county,  and  from  there  he'd  take  us  on  a 
motor  trip  through  the  State. 

Of  course,  we  knew  what  a  wildly  hilarious  time 
we'd  have  splashing  out  small  talk  to  the  collection 
of  Northern  human  bric-a-brac  always  to  be  found 
at  Uncle  Gilbert's,  but  then  we  wouldn't  be  there 
long — we'd  be  off  and  away  in  the  motor,  and, 
besides,  what  is  one  going  to  do  when  the  richest 
old  gink  in  the  family  waves  a  -beckoning  arm? 

I'll  tell  you  what  one  is  going  to  do — one  is  going 
to  take  to  one's  o'sullivans,  beat  it  rapidly  to  a  choo- 
choo,  and  float  into  Uncle  Gilbert's  presence  with 
business  of  being  tickled  to  death — that's  what  one 
is  going  to  do. 

You  know  Nature  has  a  few  immutable  laws,  and 
one  is  that  even  a  rich  old  uncle  must  in  the  full 
course  of  time  pass  on  and  leave  nephews  and  nieces. 
•Leave  them  what?  Ah  I  that's  it  I  Pass  the  time 
table,  please ! 

Hawleysville  is  out  in  the  Florida  potato  country, 
about  ten  miles  from  Hastings,  and  it's  some  burg — 

23 


24.  IDLE  MOMENTS  IN  FLORIDA 

nearly  eleven  houses,  eleven  barns,  eleven  cows, 
eleven  dogs  and  one  street. 

Uncle  Gilbert  wrote  it  all  himself. 

He  owns  a  lot  of  things  in  Florida.  He  has 
orange  groves,  potato  groves,  alligator  groves, 
grapefruit  groves,  rattlesnake  groves  and,  if  there 
are  any  other  kinds  of  groves,  he  has  those,  too. 

Uncle  Gilbert  has  nearly  all  the  money  there  is 
in  the  world.  Every  time  he  signs  a  check  a  national 
bank  goes  out  of  existence.  He  tried  to  count  it  all 
once,  but  he  sprained  his  wrists  and  had  to  stop. 

On  the  level,  when  he  goes  into  a  bank  all  the 
government  bonds  get  up  and  yell,  "Hello,  Papal" 

When  he  cuts  coupons  it's  like  a  sheep  shearing. 

He  has  muscles  all  over  him  like  a  prize  fighter 
just  from  lifting  mortgages. 

When  we  finally  reached  the  Hawley  mansion 
after  an  exciting  trip  over  the  Dixie  Highway  we 
found  there  a  scene  of  great  excitement.  Old  and 
distant  relations  were  bustling  up  and  down  the 
stone  steps,  talking  in  whispers;  servants  with  scared 
faces  and  popping  eyes  were  peeping  around  the  cor 
ner  of  the  house,  and  in  the  roadway  in  front  of  a 
sobbing  automobile  stood  Uncle  Gilbert  and  Aunt 
Miranda,  made  up  to  look  like  two  members  of  the 
Peary  expedition  at  the  Pole. 

After  the  formal  greetings  we  were  soon  put  hep 
to  the  facts  in  the  case. 

"We're  getting  ready  to  take  you  all  through 
Florida  I"  murmured  Aunt  Miranda,  after  casting 
an  anxious  glance  in  the  direction  of  the  busy  Uncle 
Gilbert,  who  was  testing  out  the  alarm-shrieker  on 


WITH    UNCLE    GILBERT  25 

a  car  that  made  its  debut  as  a  dashing  soubrette  back 
in — well,  at  a  guess,  let  us  say  1909. 

"Good  for  you,  Aunt  Miranda,"  I  replied;  "it 
surely  is  kind  of  you  and  Uncle  Gilbert  to  map  out  a 
trip  like  that  for  us.  Shall  we  go  all  the  way  to 
Miami  in  the  College  Yell?" 

"The  College  Yell?"  she  echoed. 

"Yes,  the  Rah-Rah-Rah  wagon,"  I  explained. 

"Oh!"  she  sighed;  "well,  I  hope  so,  if  your  Uncle 
Gilbert  masters  it." 

"Why — why — you  mean — doesn't  he  know  the 
combination?"  I  stuttered,  slightly  nonplussed  for 
the  nonce,  in  a  manner  of  speaking. 

"You  see,"  explained  Aunt  Miranda,  while  a  pair 
of  green  goggles  danced  an  accompaniment  on  her 
nose,  "your  Uncle  Gilbert  loaned  the  money  to  a 
man  to  open  a  garage  in  Hawleysville.  But  auto- 
mobilists  never  got  any  blowouts  or  punctures  going 
through  here  because  there  isn't  a  drop  of  liquor  hid 
den  in  a  cellar  in  the  town,  so  the  garage  failed 
and  the  man  left  town  in  an  awful  hurry,  and  all 
your  Uncle  Gilbert  got  for  the  money  he  loaned  was 
this  car.  We've  been  four  years  making  up  our 
minds  to  buy  one,  and  now  we  have  one  whether  we 
want  it  or  not." 

"Fine!"  I  said;  "going  out  for  a  spin,  Uncle  Gil 
bert?" 

"Possibly,"  he  answered,  never  taking  his  eyes  off 
the  man-killer  in  front  of  him,  which  stood  there 
trembling  with  anger. 

"What  car  is  it?"  I  inquired  politely. 

"It's  a  Seismic,"  Uncle  Gilbert  said. 


26     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

"Oh,  yes,  of  course;  made  by  the  Earthquake 
Brothers  in  Powderville — good  car  for  the  hills,  es 
pecially  coming  down,"  I  volunteered.  "Know  how 
to  run  it?" 

"I  guess  so;  I  was  always  a  good  hand  at  machin 
ery,"  Uncle  Gilbert  answered. 

"Don't  you  think  you  should  have  a  chauffeur?" 
I  suggested. 

"Chauffeur!  Why?"  Uncle  Gilbert  snapped  back; 
"what  do  I  want  with  one  of  those  fellows  sitting 
around,  eating  me  out  of  house  and  home?" 

Now  you  know  why  he  has  so  much  money. 

"We'll  be  back  in  a  little  while,"  Aunt  Miranda 
explained;  "just  make  yourselves  at  home,  children." 

Uncle  Gilbert  continued  to  eye  the  car  for  another 
minute,  then  he  turned  to  me  and  said,  "Want  to 
try  it?" 

"Nix,  Uncle  Gilbert,"  I  protested;  "what  would 
the  townspeople  say?  You  with  a  new  motor  car, 
afraid  to  run  it  yourself,  had  to  send  to  New  York 
for  your  nephew — nix!  Where's  your  family 
pride?" 

"My  family  pride  is  all  right,"  answered  Uncle 
Gilbert;  "but  there's  a  lot  of  contraptions  in  that 
machine  I  don't  seem  to  recognize." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right;  you're  a  handy  little  guy 
with  machinery,"  I  reminde~d  him.  "Hop  in  now  and 
break  forth.  Don't  let  the  public  think  that  you're 
afraid  to  blow  a  Bubble  through  the  streets  of  your 
native  town.  The  rubber  sweater  buttoned  to  the 
chin  and  the  Dutch  awning  over  the  forehead  for 
yours,  and  on  your  way!" 


WITH    UNCLE    GILBERT  27 

Finally  and  reluctantly  Uncle  Gilbert  and  Aunt 
Miranda  climbed  into  the  kerosene  wagon,  and  I 
gave  him  his  final  instructions. 

"Now,  Uncle  Gilbert,"  I  said,  "grab  that  wheel 
in  front  of  you  firmly  with  both  hands  and  put  one 
foot  on  the  accelerator.  Now  put  the  other  foot  on 
the  rheostat  and  let  the  left  elbow  gently  rest  on  the 
deodorizer.  Keep  the  rubber  tube  connecting  with 
the  automatic  fog  whistle  closely  between  the  teeth 
and  let  the  right  elbow  be  in  touch  with  the  quad- 
ruplex  while  the  apex  of  the  left  knee  is  pressed  over 
the  spark  coil  and  the  right  ankle  works  the  con 
denser." 

Uncle  Gilbert  grunted.  "Why  don't  you  put  my 
left  shoulder  blade  to  work,"  he  muttered;  "it's  the 
only  part  of  my  anatomy  that  hasn't  got  a  job." 

"Nephew,"  whispered  the  nervous  Aunt  Miranda, 
"do  you  really  think  your  Uncle  Gilbert  knows 
enough  about  the  car?" 

"Sure,"  I  answered,  and  I  was  very  serious  about 
it.  "Now,  Uncle  Gilbert,  keep  both  eyes  on  the 
road  in  front  of  you  and  the  rest  of  your  face  in  the 
wagon.  Start  the  driving  wheels,  repeat  slowly  the 
name  of  your  favorite  coroner,  and  leave  the  rest  to 
Fate!" 

And  away  they  started  in  the  Whiz  Wagon. 

'Before  they  had  rolled  along  for  six  houses 
through  town,  the  machine  suddenly  began  to 
breathe  fast,  and  then,  all  of  a  sudden,  it  choked  up 
and  stopped. 

"Will  it  explode?"  whispered  Aunt  Miranda, 
pleadingly. 


28    IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

"No,"  said  Uncle  Gilbert,  jumping  out;  "I  think 
the  cosmopolitan  has  buckled  with  the  trapezoid," 
and  then,  with  a  monkey  wrench,  he  crawkd  under 
the  hood  to  see  if  the  trouble  was  stubbornness  or 
appendicitis. 

Uncle  Gilbert  took  a  dislike  to  a  brass  valve  and 
began  to  knock  it  with  the  monkey  wrench,  where 
upon  the  valve  got  mad  at  him  and  upset  a  pint  of 
ancient  salad  oil  all  over  his  features. 

When  Uncle  Gilbert  recovered  consciousness  the 
machine  was  breathing  again,  so  he  jumped  to  the 
helm,  pointed  the  bow  at  Tampa,  and  began  to  cut 
the  grass. 

Alas!  however,  it  seemed  that  the  demon  o-f 
unrest  possessed  that  Coal-oil  Coupe,  for  it  soon 
began  to  jump  and  skip,  and  suddenly,  with  a  snort, 
it  took  the  river  road  and  scooted  away  from  town. 

Uncle  Gilbert  patted  it  on  the  back  and  spoke 
soothingly,  but  it  was  no  use. 

Aunt  Miranda  pleaded  with  him  to  keep  in  near 
the  shore,  because  she  was  getting  seasick;  but  her 
tears  were  in  vain. 

"You  must  appear  'calm  and  indifferent  in  the 
presence  of  danger,"  muttered  Uncle  Gilbert  as  they 
rushed  madly  into  the  bosom  of  a  flock  of  scrub 
range  cows. 

But  luck  was  with  them,  for  with  a  turn  of  the 
wrist  Uncle  Gilbert  jumped  the  machine  across  the 
road,  and  all  he  could  feel  was  the  sharp  swish  of 
an  old  cow's  tail  across  his  cheek  as  they  rushed  on 
and  out  of  that  animal's  life  forever. 

Aunt  Miranda  tried  to  be  brave  and  to  chat  pleas- 


WITH    UNCLE    GILBERT  29 

antly.  "How  are  the  grapefruit  bugs  these  days?" 
she  asked,  and  just  then  the  machine  struck  a  stone 
and  she  went  up  in  the  air. 

"Active,"  answered  Uncle  Gilbert  when  she  got 
back,  and  then  there  was  an  embarrassing  silence. 

To  try  to  hold  a  polite  conversation  on  a  fright 
ened  motor  car  in  full  flight  is  very  much  like  trying  , 
to  repeat  the  Declaration  of  Independence  while  fall 
ing  from  a  seventh-story  window. 

Then,  all  of  a  sudden,  the  mathine  struck  a  chord 
in  G  and  started  for  Key  West  at  the  rate  of  7,000,- 
ooo  miles  a  minute. 

Aunt  Miranda  threw  her  arms  around  Uncle  Gil 
bert's  neck,  he  threw  his  neck  around  the  lever,  the 
fever  threw  him-  over,  and  they  both  threw  a  fit. 

Down  the  road  ahead  of  them  a  man  and  his  wife 
were  quarreling.  They  were  so  much  in  earnest 
tha-t  they  did  not  hear  the  machine  sneaking  swiftly 
up  on  rubber  shoes. 

As  the  Benzine  Buggy  was  about  to  fall  upon  the 
quarreling  man  and  wife  Uncle  Gilbert  squeezed  a 
couple  of  hoarse  "Toot  toots"  from  the  horn,  where 
upon  the  woman  in  the  roa-d  threw  up  both  hands  and 
leaped  for  the  man.  The  man  threw  up  both  feet 
and  leaped  for  the  fence. 

The  fast  Aunt  Miranda  saw  of  them  they  were 
entering  their  modest  home  neck  and  neck,  and  the 
divorce  court  lost  a  bet. 

Then  the  machine  began  to  climb  a  telegraph  pole, 
ami  as  it  ran  down  the  other  side  Aunt  Miranda 
wanted  to  know  for  the  tenth  time  if  it  would 
explode. 


30     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

"How  did  Nephew  tell  you  to  handle  it?"  she 
shrieked,  as  the  Rowdy  Cart  bit  its  way  through  a 
stone  fence  and  began  to  dance  a  two-step  over  a 
strange  man's  lawn. 

"The  only  way  to  handle  this  infernal  machine  is 
to  soak  it  in  water,"  yelled  Uncle  Gilbert  as  they 
hit  the  main  road  again. 

"I  don't  see  what  family  pride  has  to  do  with  it; 
there  isn't  a  soul  looking,"  moaned  Aunt  Miranda. 

"Oh,  if  I  could  only  be  arrested  for  fast  riding 
and  get  this  thing  stopped,"  wailed  Uncle  Gilbert 
as  they  headed  for  the  river. 

"Let  me  out,  let  me  out,"  pleaded  Aunt  Miranda, 
and  the  machine  seemed  to  hear  her,  for  it  certainly 
obliged  the  lady. 

I  found  out  afterwards  that  in  order  to  make 
good  with  Aunt  Miranda  the  machine  jumped  up  in 
the  air  and  turned  a  double  handspring,  during  the 
course  of  which  friend  Uncle  and  his  wife  fell  out 
and  landed  in  the  most  generously  inclined  mud  pud 
dle  in  that  part  of  the  state  of  Florida. 

Then  the  Buzz  Buggy  turned  around  and  barked 
at  them  and  with  an  excited  wag  of  its  tail  left  them 
flat  and  scooted  for  home. 

It  must  have  come  home  by  taking  a  short  cut 
through  a  potato  farm,  because  there  was  nothing 
but  Murphys  a  la  Julienne  clinging  to  the  wheels, 
the  tonneau  was  full  of  potatoes  a  la  shoe  string,  and 
about  seven  ounces  of  Saratoga  chips  nestled  and 
clung  to  the  carbureter  for  warmth. 

Now  you  know  why  we  didn't  see  Florida  from 
the  afterdeck  of  Uncle  Gilbert's  automobile. 


ST.  AUGUSTINE 

St.  Augustine! 
Queen 

Of  Matanzas  Bay! 
The  books  of  history  say 
Discovered  on  a  day 
In  1513 

All  in  her  green 
And  lovely  glory! 
There  is  a  story 
Or  Indian  legend  which  relates 
That  if  the  Stranger  within  her  City  Gates, 
Standing  on  her  land, 
Shall  get  the  sand 
Of  St.  Augustine  within  his  shoes 
He'll  never  lose 
His  desire  to  return  to 
That  Ancient  Town — and  it's  true  I 
St.  Augustine  the  Quaint! 
With  its  Street  of  George  the  Saint, 
Where  queerly  contrived 
.  Balconies  which  have  survived 
The  Hammerings  of  the  Years  overhang 
That  same  roadway  where  the  gay  gang 
Of  Spanish  soldiers  of  Menendez'  day 
Strolled  at  their  ease, 
Or  sat  beneath  the  trees 


32     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

In  the  twilight  of  other  days. 

The  Oldest  House,  too,  plays 

Its  part  in  the  sublime 

Drama  entitled,  "The  Passing  of  Time"; 

For  there  one  may  learn 

How  the  monks  were  taught  to  spurn 

That  which  is  called  Life  by 

Keeping  ever  nigh 

The  symbol  of  Death — o'er  their  heads 

A  coffin  in  the  ceiling — from  their  beds 

To  look  at  and  ponder  on — 

A  pleasant  thought  on  a  smiling  dawn, 

Is  it  not?    Answer;  it  is  not  I 

Great  Scott  I 

How  it  does  make 

You  think  when  you  take 

A  walk  around 

The  Oldest  House  to  be  found 

In  the  oldest  town 

Set  dbwn 

On  the  map  of  the  U.  S.  A., 

Gay 

Old  St.  Augustine  with  its  hoary 

Story 

Going  back 

To  old  Jack 

Ponce 

Who  did  ensconce 

Himself  on  a  rock  hard  by 

A  babbling  stream  and  drink  dry 

Said  stream 

Which  in  his  dream 


ST.    AUGUSTINE 

He  called 

The  Fountain  of  Youth,  but  he  got  all  balled 

Up,  because 

According  to  the  laws 

Of  Nature  there  was  nothing  near 

But  clear 

Sulphur  water — dark  brown 

Sullen  sulphur  water  all  over  town ! 

And  Ponce  de  Leonl 

Was  he  on? 

Sure! 

It  might  cure 

Lumbago, 

And  in  a  way  go 

Far  to  aid  digestion  I 

But  as  to  the  question 

Of  Eternal  Youth!— 

Good  sooth ! 

In  order  to  be 

As  young  as  Wm.  Jennings  Bryan,  he 

Would  have  to  drink,  say, 

Eight  quarts  of  sulphur  water  a  day 

For  weeks  and  months,  and  then 

Before  he  got  young  again 

Suppose  the  sulphur  grains 

All  went  t6  his  brains? 

Horrors !  he'd  be  a  match! 

And  he'd  catch 

Fire  if  he  but  scratch 

His  head! 

Enough  said. 

Ponce  put  away 


34     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

His  papier-mache 

Cup, 

Saying,  "I  don't  want  to  be  all  lit  up!" 

Then  he  hurled  anathemas  and 

White  sand, 

Together  with  coquina  shell, 

At  the  well, 

Saying,  "I'll  tell 

The  world!" 

(As  he  hurled) 

"That  I'm  no  spring  chicken, 

Even  if  I  did  thicken 

My  system  with  liquid  ore 

And  stucco  my  stomach  with  more 

Sulphur  than  any  drug  store 

Contains  in  Old  Madrid!" 

Then  Ponce  did 

A  fandango  and,  shaking  his  castanets, 

Gets 

Himself  hence  and  skeedaddles 

To  his  canoe  and  paddles 

Back  to  Spain 

Again, 

Where  he  dies, 

And  as  he  passes  on  he  sighs, 

"Unfountain  of  Youthless,  I  go!" 

And  so 

Ponce  became  a  memory. 

But  he 

Left  a  precious  heritage  here, 

For  near 

At  hand 


ST.    AUGUSTINE  35 

In  a  few  acres  of  land 

Is  a  well 

Full  of  water,  and  the  smell 

Of  sulphur  'round  about — 

Where  the  sign-boards  shout, 

"Fountain  of  Youth — 1513," 

With  waving  palms  of  green, 

And  protecting  it  a  fence; 

And  for  twenty-five  cents 

(And  war  tax,  if  you  don't  mind!) 

You  can  find 

Juan  Ponce  de  Leon's  well, 

And  they  will  tell 

You  it  is  his  very  same 

Oaken-bucketless  and  tame 

Little  Fountain  of  Youth! 

But,  in  sooth, 

It  cannot  be 

For  he 

Is  DEAD, 

And  when  all  is  done  and  said 

The  fact  must  remain 

That  a  Fountain  of  Youth  must  contain 

Eternal  Youth,  otherwise 

It  is  fair  to  surmise 

Somebody  is  talking  through  his  hat; 

And,  besides,  if  that 

Were  really  a  Fountain  of  Youth — say! 

To-day, 

Last  week  and  next  year, 

In  weather  clear 

Or  dark, 


36     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

Out  there  in  that  Park 

You'd  find 

Dear  old  Jack  Ponce  behind 

The  fence 

Raking  in  each  twenty-five  cents 

(And  war  tax,  if  you  don't  mind!) 

With  a  kind 

Spanish  smile 

On  his  young  face  all  the  while — 

Wouldn't  you?     I  ask  you! 

I  won't  task  you, 

But  don't  you  think 

If  Ponce  took  a  deep  drink 

From  the  Fountain  of  Eternal  Youth  he 

Would  still  be 

In  evidence  around  his  discovery, 

And  would  he  let  the  bar 

Privilege  and  the  cash  register  get  far 

From  his  sight? — would  he? 

JAMAIS  DE  LA  VIE  ! 

Which  is  the  French  name 

For  what  the  same 

Thing  means  in  Spanish — Gee  I 

And  incidentally,  wheel 

I  suppose 

Those 

Hack-drivers  will  hafe  me 

And  berate  me 

For  monkeying  with  tradition — they, 

To-day, 

Are  the  only 

Lonely 


ST.    AUGUSTINE  87 

Survivors  of  the  buccaneers 

And  privateers 

And  pirates  bold 

Of  the  old 

Regime. 

Each  with  his  team, 

A  smiling  Captain  Kidd, 

With  a  howitzer  hid 

In  the  surrey, 

Ready  to  hurry 

You  around  the  city 

With  witty 

Comments,  at  the  rate 

Of  the  old  horse's  gait 

Which  is  geared  to  go 

Five  miles  or  so 

In  a  week — although 

There 

Is  a  proverb  somewhere 

Which  says,  "Money  makes  the  mare 

Go,"  it  is  refuted, 

Disputed, 

And  put  to  shame 

By  these  same 

Hack-drivers,  who  join 

Earnest  hands  to  get  your  coin 

And,  getting  it,  the  mare 

Doesn't  go  anywhere 

Much! 

And  the  touch 

Of  the  whip  to  her 

Is,  per- 

46243O    ' 


38     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

Adventure,  even  as  a  mild 

Lullaby  to  a  sleepy  child. 

One  of  these 

Rovers  of  the  Spanish  Seas 

Beckoned  to  me  with  his  whip 

And  inquired  if  I'd  like  to  slip 

Off  my  care  and  worry 

And  see  the  city  in  his  surrey. 

I  asked  him  how  much 

He  would  touch 

Me  for  to  see 

The  nearest  orange  groves,  and  he 

Said,  "Say,  three 

Dollars,  Boss!" 

I  said,  "Three  dollars,  boss!"  at  a  loss 

To  know  how  else  to  meet 

Such  a  situation  except  repeat, 

"Three  dollars,  Boss!"  over  and  over, 

But  the  deadly  Rover 

Stood  there  and  only 

Grinned  a  lonely 

Pirate's  grin; 

So  I  got  in 

The  galleon,  and  we  set  sail 

Out  into  the  pale 

Unknown,  far  from  the  safe  retreat 

Of  friendly  King  Street, 

And  I  said  to  the  grandson 

Of  one 

Of  the  Bo'suns  of  Sir  Francis  Drake, 

"How  long  will  it  take 

Before  we  have  hove 


ST.    AUGUSTINE  39 

In  sight  of  the  Grove?" 

And  then,  shaking  his  ear-rings,  the  old 

Bold 

Buccaneer 

Answered  clear: 

"Mebbe  a  1'il  while,  mebbe  longer, 

'Pends  on  the  ol'  hoss  goin'  stronger!" 

And  then  I  found  myself  saying, 

Meanwhile  displaying 

One  of  my  ill-at-ease  smiles, 

"How  many  nautical  miles?" 

"Ain't  none  of  'em  va'iy  nautical,  Boss! 

I  dess  chawges  for  de  loss 

Of  time  consumed!" 

Then  he  resumed, 

"Mebbe  it's  'leven  mile — mebbe  fo', 

I  ain't  dess  sho' !" 

And  so  the  voyage  was  re-begun, 

And  we  drifted  into  the  setting  sun, 

Passing  a  derelict  farm 

Or  two,  until  the  pirate's  arm 

Went  up  in  the  air, 

And  then  and  there 

I  thought  he'd  yank 

Me  out  and  shout,  "Walk  the  plank!" 

But,  instead, 

He  said: 

"Dahhe!" 

Which,  translated,  seemed  to  be 

"Yonder  am  dat  Fountain 

Of  Youth  whey  I  was  countin' 

On  takin'  you  all  to!" 


40     IDLE    MOMENTS, IN    FLORIDA 

And  before  my  eyes  grew 

A  fence  I 

Admission  twenty-five  cents 

(And  war  tax,  if  you  don't  mind!). 

So  this  is  what  Ponce  came  to  find! 

I  looked  me  all  around, 

Then  suddenly  a  profound 

Thought  came, 

And  in  the  flame 

Which  shone 

As  my  own, 

After  Knowledge  lit  her  lamp, 

I  could  see  the  Truth  in  the  damp 

Bottom  of  the  well — and  I  knew  I 

I  knew  then  who 

Drank  the  brew 

And  profited  thereby — 

Why 

//  was  the  old  mare 

In  the  shafts  there! 

In  each  eye 

I  could  descry 

Ages  and  ages  of  despair — 

Poor  young  old  mare  I 

Centuries  ago 

She  found  eternal  youth,  but  the  slow 

Corrosions  of  time 

Had  robbed  her  of  ambition, 

And  hers  now  was  the  sad  condition 

Of  having  to  live  ever 

Without  pep,  and  never 

Be  more 


ST.    AUGUSTINE  41 

Than  a  shuttledore 

Between  the  right  and  left  shaft 

Of  a  pirate's  fore  and  aft 

Carryall — Ah,  mel 

Also  Gee! 

Whiz! 

Tis 

A  cunning  sample  of  the  irony  of  Fate! 

I  looked  towards  the  gate 

And  the  fence — 

Admission  twenty-five  cents 

(And  war  tax,  if  you  don't  mind!) 

Blind 

Were  mine  eyes  with  tears, 

So  I  said  to  the  pirate,  "Here's 

Your  three  dollars,  Boss! 

If  you  can  stand  the  loss 

I'll  walk  back  to  town — 

It's  only  down 

The  road  a  few  blocks — 

Which  knocks 

A  hole 

In  your  droll 

Ideas  of  distance — and  say! 

Lay 

Off  with  that  whip 

On  the  mare  who  was  a  slip 

Of  an  equine-girlie 

In  the  early 

Days  of  St.  Augustine. 

Between 

1513 


42     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

And  1516 

She  was  a  two-year-old, 

And  on  a  cold 

Track 

Could  do  a  there-and-back 

In  record  time — and  say! 

Hand  her  plenty  of  hay, 

Because  she's 

With  ease 

The  oldest  relic  in  town — 

A  roadster  of  renown, 

Loved  and  respected  by 

That  good  old  guy, 

Juan  Ponce  de  Leon!" 

Was  he  on, 

That  pirate? — I  don't  know, 

For  with  slow 

And  faltering  steps  I, 

With  another  sigh 

For  days  that  are  no  more, 

Bore 

Sou',  sou'east  from  the  fence — 

Admission  twenty-five  cents — 

(And  war  tax,  if  you  don't  mind!) 

To  find 

A  pleasant  path 

Which  hath 

Forever  waving  palms  to  nod  the  way 

To  gay 

St.  Augustine — 

Queen 

Of  Matanzas  Bay — 


ST.    AUGUSTINE  43 

Whose  memories  of  an  ancient  day 
Are  older  than  the  sands  of  snow 
Which  grow 

In  white  glory  on  her  distant  shore, 
Where  despite  the  ceaseless  roar 
Of  the  ever-restless  waves  they  do 
Contrive  to  whisper  allegiance  to 
Their  listening  Queen — 
St.  Augustine. 


MUSIC  HATH  CHARMS 

For  your  delectation  a  little  side  excursion  into 
one  of  the  Floridian  by-ways,  entitled,  "Music  Hath 
Charms." 

SCENE:— The  Plaza  in  St.  Augustine,  in  the 
immediate  neighborhood  of  the  band  stand. 

DISCOVERED: — OMNES,  which,  as  you  know, 
means  everybody  except  a  few  hotel  clerks,  one 
night  watchman  and  the  motorman  of  a  street  car, 
which  is  unfortunately  stalled  at  the  other  end  of 
town. 

MRS.  MUFFIN,  of  the  Borough  of  Brooklyn,  is 
seated  on  the  end  of  a  bench  at  Center.  She  has  her. 
wraps,  her  handbag  and  a  box  of  candy  on  the 
up-stage  end  of  the  bench,  which  is  her  method  of 
reserving  the  seat  for  her  friend,  MRS.  TRISKET, 
who  is  a  trifle  late. 

There  are  hundreds  of  other  people  present,  all 
trying  to  listen  to  the  good  music  which  SlGNOR  VES- 
SELA'S  band  is  discoursing. 

The  air  is  balmy  and  a  tropical  glitter  may  be 
noticed  in  connection  with  the  stars — if  you  get  what 
I  mean! 

Presently  MRS.  TRISKET,  also  of  the  Borough  of 
Brooklyn,  but  nearer  Flatbushf  arrtves,  and  after  the 

44 


MUSIC    HATH    CHARMS  45 

the  handbag  and  the  box  of  candy  are 
removed  she  settles  on  the  bench  with  a  hen-like 
flutter. 

The  audience  will  kindly  remember  that  the  band 
is  playing  steadily  throughout  the  drama. 


Late,  aren't  you,  Grace,  dear? 

Yes,  Lottie,  I  was  waiting  for  the  Northern 
papers.  I  always  like  to  see  what  the  weather  was 
day  before  yesterday  in  New  York. 

Why,  Grace,  what  difference  does  day  before  yes 
terday's  weather  in  New  York  make  when  you're 
here  ? 

Well,  you  see,  Lottie,  if  it  was  cold  and  snowy  and 
sleety  up  there,  I  can  be  glad  I'm  here,  and  if  it  was 
warm  and  pleasant  up  there  I  can  worry  because  I'm 
not  home.  Delightful  band,  isn't  it? 

Yes,  Grace,  but  I  think  the  drums  are  a  little  too 
loud.  They're  so  discouraging  to  conversation — 
especially  if  one's  hearing  isn't  any  too  good.  I 
came  here  two  or  three  times  to  talk  to  Mrs.  Open- 
face — you  know  her !  Rich ! — oh,  dear  me !  Oodles 
of  money!  Her  husband  invented  a  method  of 
opening  hard  shell  clams  by  electricity  and  made  a 
fortune.  And  her  son-in-law,  Hector  Squeeze-eagle, 
well,  he  discovered  a  lotion  for  removing  sunburn 


46     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

from  golf  balls,  so  the  family  is  just  itchy  with 
money.  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  we  came  here  several 
evenings  ago  to  have  a  little  chat,  and,  do  you  know, 
it  seemed  to  be  old-home-week  for  the  drummers. 
Every  time  we  tried  to  discuss  some  of  our  mutual 
friends — and  Heaven  knows  they  need  discussion ! — 
those  drummers  would  pound  out  a  deafening 
cadenza  and  poor  Mrs.  Openface,  being  slightly 
deaf,  was  frightfully  discouraged,  so  finally  we  went 
over  and  sat  by  the  trolley  tracks,  where  it  was 
quieter.  But  I  do  love  good  music,  don't  you? 
What's  the  news  in  the  papers? 

Nothing,  Lottie,  nothing  in  the  papers  but  strikes 
— don't  you  hate  to  be  always  reading  about  strikes? 

I  do,  Grace;  it  seems  such  a  waste  of  time  to  be 
striking  and  then  un-striking  all  the  time.  If  they'd 
only  strike  somebody  or  something  and  get  it  over 
with — but  it  seems  to  be  the  fashion  nowadays. 
Don't  you  remember  that  beautiful  poem,  Grace, 
dear — who  wrote  it  now?  Was  it  Robert  Hitchens 
or  Senator  Lodge? — I've  forgotten,  but  one  verse 
was  so  true ! — wait  till  that  trombone  person  hushes 
his  noise!  See  if  I  remember  it,  Grace!  It  went 
something  like  this: — 

"Strike  and  the  world"  strikes  with  you, 

Work  and  you  work  alone, 

For  the  profiteer  needs  your  money,  my  dear, 

Though  he  has  enough  of  his  own." 

I  think  that's  perfectly  splendid  and  so  true  and 
real,  don't  you,  Grace? 


MUSIC    HATH    CHARMS  47 

Oh,  Lottie,  it's  wonderful!  And  how  well  you 
recite.  What  a  gift  it  is  to  be  able  to  recite — dear 
me,  that  trombone  is  loud,  isn't  it?  I  wonder  if  it's 
really  a  trombone — I  thought  they  had  to  slide  it? 

Well,  Grace,  if  you're  really  curious  and  want  to 
hear  the  music,  far  be  it  from  me  to  prevent  you, 
but  when  a  person  hasn't  seen  another  person  for 
weeks  and 

Oh,  Lottie,  I  beg  your  pardon!  What  is  mere 
music  when  I'm  dying  to  have  you  tell  me  all  the 
news.  Did  you  go  to  Petersburg  this  year? 

No,  Grace,  I  didn't.  And  it  is  so  perfectly  splen 
did  at  Petersburg.  They  have  those  little  intimate 
symphony  concerts  there,  and  they  are  so  delightful 
to  talk  through.  And  the  time  passes  so  quickly,  it's 
amazing!  One  evening  I  started  to  tell  Mrs.  Cruller 
how  Jessie  Wafer  ran  away  with  her  father's  chauf 
feur — you  remember,  Grace,  the  Wafers  lived  next 
door  to  us  when  we  had  that  salmon-colored  house 
near  the  cemetery! — well,  I  no  more  than  got  Jessie 
and  the  chauffeur  to  the  subway  at  Borough  Hall 
when  the  concert  was  over.  It's  perfectly  astound 
ing  how  the  time  passes  in  Petersburg. 
% 

Do  you  think  you'll  go  to  Ormond  Beach,  Lottie  ? 

I  don't  know,  Grace.  I  have  a  two  weeks'  invi 
tation  from  friends  in  Tampa — it's  perfectly  splen 
did  at  Tampa,  and  then  I  have  friends  in  Daytona, 


48    IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

and  they  may  surprise  me  with  an  invitation — it's 
perfectly  splendid  in  Daytona — and  Sea  Breeze! 
that's  perfectly  splendid!  I  spent  two  weeks  there 
last  summer,  and  it's  perfectly  splendid!  Wonder 
ful  beach  at  Ormond  and  Daytona,  too.  The  tide 
goes  out  so  far  it's  no  trouble  to  sit  there  and  talk 
for  hours. 

Have  you  been  to  the  Everglades,  Lottie? — I'd 
like  to  see  those. 

Oh,  yes,  Grace,  I've  seen  them — perfectly  splen 
did,  but  slushy,  frightfully  slushy.  You  have  to  go 
in  a  boat,  you  know.  They  are  full  of  strange  look 
ing  Indians  and  perfectly  splendid  alligators  and 
one  eats  the  other.  I  don't  remember  now  whether 
the  Indians  eat  the  alligators  or  the  alligators  eat 
the  Indians,  but  it  doesn't  matter  much,  does  it? 
Oh,  I  like  the  Everglades.  If  you  have  a  nice  com 
fortable  boat,  they  are  a  perfectly  splendid  place 
to  sleep  for  hours  and  hours,  because  nothing  at  all 
ever  happens  there  except  scenery — and  that's  per 
fectly  splendid  if  you  care  to  look  at  it.  Delight 
ful  music,  isn't  it? 

I'm  told  so,  Lottie.  We  must  drop  around  some 
evening  and  hear  it.  Perhaps, '  Lottie,  we  should 
come  here  separately.  "They  say  that  in  order  to 
fully  appreciate  good  music  one  should  shut  out  the 
world  and  do  nothing  but  listen. 

Well,  Grace,  I'll  tell  the  world  I  won't  shut  it 
out — not  to  hear  music. 


MUSIC    HATH    CHARMS  49 

You  know,  Lottie,  the  old  proverb  says  that  music 
hath  charms  to  soothe  the  naked  Indians. 

Oh,  nonsense,  Grace,  you  can  hear  all  about  the 
Indians  down  at  Fort  Marion,  where  Osceola 
escaped  through  an  eight-inch  drain  pipe  under  a 
flag  of  truce.  Indians  don't  interest  me.  Didn't  you 
tell  me,  Grace,  that  Mr.  Vessella  had  written  a  song 
entitled  "Florida  Water"? 

No,  Lottie,  dear,  not  "Florida  Water" — it's 
called  "Florida  Nights." 

Oh,  of  course,  Grace,  I  should  have  remembered 
that  "Florida  Water"  was  written  by  Ponce  de 
Leon — I  never  was  much  good  at  geography.  Ask 
the  woman  sitting  next  to  you  if  "Florida  Nights" 
will  be  sung  this  evening. 

(Business  of  MRS.  TRISKET  asking  the  woman 
sitting  next  to  her  and  then  turning  to  MRS. 
MUFFIN.) 

She  says  that  Miss  Ribekova  has  just  started  to 
sing  "Florida  Nights" — shall  we  listen,  Lottie? 

% 
Oh,  Grace,  if  she's  started,  what's  the  use?    It's 

so  hard  to  follow  the  plot  of  a  song  unless  you  hear 
the  very  beginning  of  it.  Oh !  isn't  that  Mr.  Figels- 
potter  over  there,  two  benches  up  and  one  across — 
you  know  him,  Grace !  He's  Mrs.  Openface's 
brother — she  was  a  Figelspotter  before  she  married 


50     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

Gipthem  Openface.  Figelspotter  is  an  inventor, 
too.  It  runs  in  the  family.  He  invented  an  anesthetic 
for  women  to  take  just  before  going  shopping.  It 
makes  them  insensible  to  the  prices.  Sometimes 
three  whole  days  pass  before  the  effects  wear  off  and 
you  realize  that  you've  paid  two  dollars  and  forty 
cents  for  something  you  could  get  in  the  palmy  days 
for  two  bits.  Of  course,  by  that  time  your  grief  can 
be  kept  under  control.  I  think  it's  a  perfectly  splen 
did  invention,  don't  you,  Grace?  But  I  wish  Mr. 
Fiegelspotter  could  invent  a  safe  method  of  coaxing 
a  sirloin  steak  away  from  a  butcher  without  hav 
ing  to  leave  a  Liberty  Bond  with  the  butcher's  cash 
ier.  I  wonder  why  Tom  Edison  doesn't  think  it  over 
— but  then  he  may  be  a  vegetarian  and  find  the  sub 
ject  uninteresting.  Oh,  dear,  it's  a  great  life,  if  you 
don't  have  to  powder! 

Oh,  Lottie,  dear,  I  knew  there  was  something  I 
was  dying  to  ask  you — I  just  knew  it.  Have  you 
been  over  to  the  alligator  farm? 

Yes,  Grace,  but  I  don't  care  for  alligators — they 
annoy  me.  I  can't  classify  them.  I  don't  know 
whether  an  alligator  is  an  animal  or  an  insect  or  the 
grandfather  of  a  snake.  Besides  I'm  here  alone  on 
a  pleasure  trip,  and  an -alligator  reminds  me  too 
much  of  my  husband. 

Lottie!  for  goodness'  sake,  why? 

Because,  Grace,  you  can't  trust  him  even  when 
he's  asleep. 


MUSIC    HATH    CHARMS  61 

Oh,  Lottie,  aren't  you  perfectly  horrid  to  your 
poor  Murgatroyd — and  he  up  there  in  the  slush  and 
snow  and  cold  wishing  for  you  to  come  back  and 
working  like  a  beaver. 

No,  Grace,  beavers  build  dams,  but  my  husband 
wouldn't  give  a  whole  village  of  beavers'  dams  if 
I  never  came  back.  Oh !  he's  perfectly  frank  about 
it.  He  says  we  get  on  so  much  better  when  I'm 
South  and  he's  in  the  North.  I  suppose  our  lives 
together  would  be  perfectly  splendidly  idyllic  if  I 
lived  in  Africa  and  he  had  two  rooms  and  a  kitchen 
ette  on  a  roof  garden  in  New  York. 

Lottie  I 

Yes,  Grace,  dear  I 

Listen ! 

I  didn't  come  here  to  listen,  Grace — I  came  here 
to  talk,  and  I  intend  to  get  my  money's  worth. 

'  Oh,  Lottie !  did  you  hear  that?  The  nerve  of  that 
maij.  He's  sitting  behind  us — did  you  hear  what 
he  said? 

How  could  I,  Grace,  dear?  You  know  how  hard 
it  is  for  me  to  hear  when  I'm  talking.  I  find  I  get 
better  results  with  my  vocal  cords  if  I  concentrate  on 
my  enunciation — what  did  he  say? 


52     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

Well,  Lottie,  that  rough  looking  man  with  the 
fur  overcoat  and  the  straw  hat  has  been  inquiring 
for  five  minutes  why  we  don't  hire  a  hall. 


Tell  him,  Grace,  dear,  if  you  care  to,  that  this  is 
a  free  country,  made  so  by  the  Declaration  of  Inde 
pendence  and  kept  so  by  William  Jennings  Bryan. 
Tell  him  that  free  speech  is  one  of  the  Fourteen 
Points,  and  tell  him  that  he'll  find  the  other  thirteen 
points  on  the  compass,  and  he  can  take  his  fur  coat 
and  his  straw  hat  and  go  in  whichever  one  of  those 
directions  he  chooses.  This  Plaza  was  a  free  Plaza 
long  before  the  raccoon  was  born  and  died  to  give 
him  that  coat,  and  it  will  be  a  free  Plaza  long  after 
his  straw  hat  has  been  turned  into  a  cottage  pud 
ding,  and  if  I  want  to  sit  down  here  and  talk  and 
have  Vessella  accompany  me  on  the  saxophone  I'll 
do  so  to  the  full  limit  of  the  law,  which  says  that  all 
men  and  women  are  born  equal  except  those  who 
wear  straw  hats  with  fur  overcoats  and — has  he 
gone? 

Yes,  Lottie,  dear,  he  got  up  and  hurried  away,  just 
when  you  mentioned  William  Jennings  Bryan. 

Why,  Grace,  dear,  they're  all  going.  The  con 
cert  must  be  over. 

It  is,  Lottie,  dear,  the  band  just  played  "The  Star- 
Spangled  Banner." 


MUSIC    HATH    CHARMS  53 

Oh,  yes,  that's  a  tune  I've  always  wanted  to  hear, 
but  somehow  or  other  I  never  get  the  time.  It's 
our  national  anthem,  isn't  it? 

Yes,  Lottie. 

How  do  you  know  they  played  it? 

I  just  knew  it  instinctively.  I  happened  to  look 
up  and  see  the  musicians  wrapping  up  their  instru 
ments,  and  it's  always  customary  to  play  the  national 
anthem  before  putting  the  instrument  away.  Don't 
think  for  one  moment,  Lottie,  dear,  that  I've  been 
unfaithful,  because  I've  listened  to  every  word 
you've  said,  and  I'm  sure  I'd  rather  listen  to  you 
any  time  than  hear  even  Galli-Curci  sing  Frosty's 
"Good-by."  Where  shall  we  go  now? 

Let's  go  over  to  the  hotel,  Grace,  dear.  We  can 
get  some  chairs  near  some  of  those  nice  old  people 
who  play  auction  bridge  and  we  can  chatter  till  bed 
time.  I've  been  told  that  it  throws  a  perfectly 
splendid  sidelight  on  bridge  to  have  an  interesting 
and  intellectual  conversation  going  on  nearby  when 
four  people  are  concentrating  on  a  no-trump  hand, 
doubled  and  re-doubled.  It's  almost  as  exciting  as 
sustaining  a  conversation  throughout  a  band  con 
cert — shall  we  go  along? 

Yes,  Lottie,  let's  hurry  before  the  nice  old  people 
break  up  their  game. 


54     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

(MRS.  MUFFIN  and  MRS.  TRISKET  pick  up 
wraps,  box  of  candy,  handbags,  etc.,  and  exeunt  into 
King  street  still  talking.) 


CURTAIN 


PALM  BEACH 

Palm  Beach! 
A  peach 
Of  a  place 
To  chase 

Care  into  the  ocean, 
Unless  you  have  developed  the  notion 
That  Care  is  a  dear  friend, 
And  you  have  no  desire  to  end 
Your  acquaintanceship, 
In  which  case  you  can  slip 
Your  bank  account 
And  any  amount 
You  can  beg  or  borrow 
Into  that  Sub-cellar  of  Sorrow 
Known 

As  the  Sucker's  Own 
Sinking  Fund, 
Which  hund- 

Reds  do  every  season  down  there, 
And  have  Care 
Sit  and  stare 

At  you,  and  follow  you  back 
Home,  and  keep  on  your  track 
Until  you  replenish  your  stack. 
And  if  you  do  replenish 
It's  a  bottle  of  Rhenish 
55 


56     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

Wine 

To  a  shine 

Jug  of  sarsaparilla  you 

Will  do 

The  same  thing  over  again  next  season — 

And  that  is  the  reason 

The  expression,  "What's  the  use!" 

Is  hurled  so  often  at  the  Obtuse. 

Palm  Beach  is  a  delight 

To  the  sight 

For  Nature  is  lavish  and  o'er  the  scene 

Spreads  her  gorgeous  green 

Mantle,  delicately  tinted 

With  recently  minted 

Poinsettia  blooms, 

And  the  whispering  palm  looms 

Ever  pleasantly  on  the  sight. 

The  night 

Is  filled  with  distant  echoes  of  the  sea 

And  the 

Moon  and  stars  come  there  to  play 

And  make  holiday. 

And  there  also  come 

A  few  dear,  dumb 

Dwellers  in  distant  Kokomo 

Who,  having  saved  up  a  dollar  or  so, 

Are  clad  in  garments  rare 

From  the  "Fair 

Price  Store"  at  home, 

And  they  roam 

The  walks  and  porches,  eyes 

Agog  and  filled  with  glad  surprise, 


PALM    BEACH  57 

Hoping  to 

Touch  elbows  with  a  few 

Dukes  or  Princes  or  Earls, 

Or  get  a  glimpse  of  those  priceless  pearls 

That  vex 

The  necks 

Of  the  Moving  Picture  Queens, 

They  see  on  screens 

In  the  Home  Town. 

You  can  write  it  down 

That  Palm  Beach  is  a  Mecca — 

By  Heck!  a 

Veritable  shrine  for  the  proletariat! — 

Whatever  that 

May  be ! 

And  it's  plain  to  see 

It  is  also  a  Mecca  for  the 

Bourgeois  and  the  Social  Gnat 

Known  as  the  Aristocrat — 

Oh,  I  beg  pardon !    What? 

Great  Scott! 

You  say  there 

Is  no  Class  Distinction  in  this  fair 

Land  of  the  Stars  and  Strikes! 

We're  all  on  the  same  Pike's 

Peak 

So  to  squeak? 

And  the  only  thing  that  lowers  or  raises 

Us  in  the  praises 

Of  our  fellow  travelers  through  life 

Is  the  amount  of  Cash  our  wife 

Has  in  her  name  ? — is  that  what  you  mean? 


58     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

Well,  between 

You  and  me 

And  the 

Lamp-post,  maybe 

You're  right; 

But,  if  I  might 

Be  so  bold, 

Why  do  all  the  funny  old 

Politicians  and  small  fry 

Editors  of  two-by-four  newspapers  cry 

Continually,  "O  Proletariat!"  and  with  one  eye 

Closed  temporarily  sigh, 

"Of  those  am  II" 

By  and  by 

Sometime  will  you  please 

Tell  me,  to  ease 

My  mind,  just  what  is  a  proletariat; 

And  did  the  cat 

Bring  that 

Funny  word  in  the  parlor,  and  where 

Did  the  cat  find  it? 

I  wouldn't  mind  it 

If  you  also  tell 

Me  how  to  spell 

"Bourgeois"  and  why, 

When  I  know  how  to  spell  it,  do  I 

Have  to  mention  it  again? 

Now  and  then 

Doesn't  it  strike  you 

That  quite  a  few 

Uncomfortable  birds 

Of  words 


PALM    BEACH  59 

Immigrate  to  this  country  and 
After  they  stand 
Around  Ellis  Island  for  a  while 
They  smile 

Themselves  into  our  language  and  we  make 
A  great  fuss  over  them  and  take 
Them  out  for  an  airing 
Every  day,  never  bearing 
In  mind 

That  though  we  mean  to  be  kind 
We  don't  know  just  what  we  do  mean 
When,  with  the  Bean 

Proud  of  its  Pronunciation,  we  exclaim, 
With  eyes  aflame, 
"He's  a  Bourgeois"  this  or  that 
Or  a  "Proletariat!" 
We  shouldn't  be 
So  free 

With  these  alien  Children  of  Speech, 
For  when  we  mention  their  names  each 
One  of  them  sneaks  away 
To  some  gray 
Corner  in  our  brain,  lies  flat 
On  its  little  fat 

Foreign  stomach,  and  laughs  itself  sick 
"Over  the  slick 
Manner  in  which  it  has  made 
A  nice  home  for  itself  in  our  staid 
Old  Language.    Now,  all  that  being  so, 
Let's  go 

Back  to  Palm  Beach,  swept 
By  ocean  breezes,  and  kept 


60     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

Gay 

By  Broadway 

And  Forty-second  Street; 

Where  you  can  meet 

Any  Notable  of  Earth, 

If  the  girth 

Of  your  roll  is  wide 

Enough  to  permit  you  to  abide 

In  that  neighborhood  for  more 

Than  four 

Or  five  days. 

And  where  every  chaise 

Longue  will  uphold 

From  time  to  time  those  who  are  bold 

In  Finance  or  Statesmanship; 

If  not  these,  then  some  one  who  had  the  grip 

And  enough  dough 

Togo 

There  and  recuperate. 

Great 

Writers  will  tell  you 

That  there  are  two 

Hotels  of  the  Class  A 

Type, 

Each  with  an  army  of  bellhops  to  swipe 

Your  hand-baggage  the  moment  you 

Drop  off  the  train  due 

From  the  North  at  i  :22, 

And  arriving  at  8  129 — 

Late — late  for  everything  except  to  dine 

Under  the  plain 

But  eagle  eye  of  Joe  McLane. 


PALM    BEACH  61 

One  of  these  hostelries,  you  will  be  told 

On  every  old 

Occasion,  is  beyond  doubt 

The  largest  wooden  hang-out 

In  the  world, 

And  it  lies  curled 

On 

The  lawn 

On  the  shore  of  Lake  Worth, 

But  you  can  bet  Perth 

Amboy  against  Manhattan  Isle 

That  though  it's  some  pile 

Of  timber,  investigation  does  not  disclose 

Any  wood  in  the  heads  of  those 

Who  make  it  a  joyous  playground 

For  the  visitors  who  stay  'round 

Its  pleasing  purlieus. 

Here  the  Curlews 

Of  Fashion  and  the  male 

Birds  of  Paradise  scatter  the  Kale; 

One  may  sit  on  its  wide 

Porches  and  hear  quaint  side 

Remarks  when  Money  meets  Cash, 

And  see  the  flash 

Of  recognition  in  the  eye 

Of  Former  Poverty  when  spry 

Profiteer 

Draws  near 

With  a  smile 

To  shake  the  hand  of  Plenty-All-The-While. 

My  memories  of  the  Beach  are  these : 

A  health-laden  breeze 


62     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

From  over  tropic  seas; 

A  fat  man  with  tight 

White 

Flannel  trousers  which  wouldn't  permit 

Him  to  walk  or  sit. 

Poinsettia  bordered  glimpses  of  fair 

And  rare 

Gardens  where  Nature  tried  to  do 

Her  best  and  succeeded  only  too 

Well. 

A  Swell 

Named  John 

Newriches,  from  Waterbury,  Conn., 

Parking  his  Robert  Burns  cigar  on 

The  lawn 

While  he  tried  to  flirt 

With  a  panatella-shaped  Skirt 

Who  was  out  walking 

With  and*talking 

To  a  Pekinese 

And  paying  no  heed  to  the  Big  Sneeze, 

John, 

From  Waterbury,  Conn. 

Palmettos  whispering  to  the  date 

Palms  great 

Bits  of  gossip  about  those 

Poor  human  things  in  "gaudy  clothes 

Who  strutted,  all  tailor-made, 

Beneath  their  shade. 

A  pretty  girl  trying  to 

Pour  a  few 

Pounds  of  face-powder  on  a  well-done" 


PALM    BEACH 

Sun- 
Burned  nose 
Which  chose 
To  spurn 

The  powder  and  tried  to  turn 
Pinker 

And  make  her  think  her 
Date  to  take  tea 
With  the 

Man  of  Her  Choice  was  frost- 
Bitten  and  Lost 

In  the  Everglades  of  Circumstance. 
The  phosphorescent  dance 
Of  the  Lake  fishes  which  throw 
A  glow 

Of  beautiful,  unearthly  light 
Into  the  night — 

And  the  night  keeps  it  for  its  own. 
The  fatherly  tone 
Of  Flo 

Ziegfeld,  who,  in  slow 
And  measured  accents,  tells 
Irving  Berlin  the  mystic  spells 
"To  weave  in  order  to  win, 
And  the  thin 
Upward  curves 
Of  Irv's 
Left  eyebrow 
As  he  replies,  "How 
Come  you  lose  yourself,  how  come,  now?" 
And  the  saddened  voice  of  Arch 
Selwyn  asking  Edgar  how  to  steal  a  march 


64     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

On  the  fickle  jade 

Called  Fortune,  and  the  staid 

And  solemn  reply : 

"Buy 

A  ticket  back  home!" 

The  white  foam 

Hurrying  to  the  shore 

Seeking  to  get  away  from  the  roar 

Of  the  following  wave, 

And'the  moon  making  the  night  its  slave, 

While  Southern  stars  gleam 

And  seem 

To  be  so  near; 

Then  clear 

And  far  away  the  call 

Of  a  night-bird,  "All 

Is  well!— All's  well! 

Tell 

The  sleeping  world  all  is  well !" 


SNAP  SHOTS 

When  friend  Wife  gave  friend  Son  that  new 
fangled  camera  last  Christmas  I  had  a  hunch  that 
the  dealers  in  photographic  supplies  would  get  the 
supreme  exercise  of  their  lives  hot-footing  it  to  the 
bank  with  the  contents  of  my  wallet. 

Son  just  grabbed  that  camera  and  went  after 
everything  and  everybody  in  the  neighborhood. 

It  so  happens  that  our  neighborhood  is  Ventnor, 
N.  J.,  and  the  poor,  patient,  old  Atlantic  Ocean  cer 
tainly  did  get  some  severe  punishment  from  Son's 
camera.  He  forced  that  ocean  to  pose  for  enough 
pictures  to  make  it  conceited  for  the  rest  of  its  life, 
but  as  most  of  the  views  turned  out  to  be  nothing 
more  than  a  pale  white  line  ending  with  sudden  and 
unenlightening  darkness  I'm  sure  the  ocean  won't 
care  much.  If  it  did  keep  still  long  enough  to  be 
"shot"  in  any  of  the  pictures  it  was  most  thoroughly 
disguised. 

Then  Son  decided  that  land  views  might  possibly 
lead  to  better  results,  so  he  picked  out  the  Hotel 
Ambassador,  standing  huge  and  inspiring  against 
the  distant  sky  line,  and  opened  up  his  eight  dollar 
machine  gun  on  that  inviting  view.  I  don't  think 
Son  ever  got  enough  of  the  Ambassador  in  any  one 
snapshot  to  identify  it  as  a  Class  A  caravansary,  but 
he  did  get  a  wonderful  approach  in  the  form  of 

65 


66     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

enough  zigzag  lines,  parallelograms,  obtuse  angles 
and  right  angle  triangles  of  twisted  Boardwalk  to 
make  a  corking  good  lesson  in  geometry. 

Before  we  started  on  our  Florida  trip  Son  was 
cured  of  collecting  the  landscape;  so  he  turned  the 
camera  over  to  friend  Daughter,  and  she  began  to 
take  views  of  everything  that  couldn't  run  all  the 
way  from  Ventnor  to  Florida,  and  then  she  discov 
ered  the  camera  wasn't  loaded,  which  helped  a  little. 

Like  everything  else  in  this  world,  picture  pinch 
ing  from  still  life  depends  entirely  on  the  point  of 
view. 

If  your  point  of  view  is  all  right  it's  an  easy  mat 
ter  to  make  a  four-dollar  dog-house  look  like  the 
villa  of  a  Wall  Street  broker  at  Palm  Beach. 

Ten  minutes  after  we  arrived  in  Hawleysville 
Daughter  had  set  me  up  as  a  series  of  statues  all 
over  Uncle  Gilbert's  lawn,  and  she  was  snapping 
at  me  like  a  Spitz  doggie  at  a  peddler. 

I  sat  for  two  hundred  and  nineteen  pictures  that 
forenoon  and  I  posed  for  every  hero  in  history,  from 
William  the  Conqueror  down  to  a  conscience-stricken 
Profiteer  handing  the  money  back. 

But  when  she  tried  to  coax  me  to  climb  up  a  limb 
of  a  tree  and  stay  there  till  she  got  a  picture  of  me 
looking  like  an  owl  I  swore  softly  in  three  languages, 
fell  over  the  back  fence,  artd  ran  for  my  life. 

When  I  rubbershoed  it  back  that  afternoon  friend 
Daughter  was  busy  developing  her  crimes. 

The  proper  and  up-to-date  caper  in  connection 
with  taking  snapshots  these  days  is  to  buy  a  develop 
ing  outfit  and  upset  the  household  from  pit  to  dome 


SNAP    SHOTS  67 

while  you  are  squeezing  out  pictures  of  every  dearly 
beloved  friend  that  crosses  your  pathway. 

Friend  Daughter  selected  a  spare  room  on  the  top 
floor  of  Uncle  Gilbert's  home  where  she  could  await 
developments. 

A  half  hour  later  ghostly  noises  began  to  come 
from  that  room  and  mysterious  whisperings  fell  out 
of  the  window  and  bumped  over  the  lawn. 

When  I  reached  the  front  door  I  found  that  the 
gardener  had  left,  the  waitress  was  leaving,  and  the 
cook  was  telephoning  for  a  rural  policeman. 

"Where  is  Daughter?"  I  asked  Mehitabel,  the 
cook. 

"She  is  still  developing,"  said  Mehitabel. 

"What  has  she  developed?"  I  inquired. 

"Up  to  the  present  time  she  has  developed  your 
Uncle's  temper  and  she  has  developed  your  Aunt's 
appetite,  she  has  developed  in  your  wife  a  desire  to 
take  a  long  walk,  a  couple  of  bill  collectors  devel 
oped  a  pain  in  the  neck  when  she  took  their  pictures, 
and,  if  things  go  on  in  this  way,  I  think  this  will 
soon- develop  into  a  foolish  house!"  said  Mehitabel, 
the  cook. 

A  half  hour  later,  while  I  was  hiding  behind  the 
pianola  in  the  living  room,  not  daring  to  breathe 
above  a  whisper  for  fear  I  would  get  my  picture 
taken  again,  friend  Daughter  rushed  in,  exclaiming, 
"Oh,  joy!  Oh,  joy!  Father,  I  have  developed  two 
pictures!" 

I  wish  you  could  have  seen  the  expression  on 
Daughter's  face. 


68     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

In  order  to  develop  the  films  a  picturesque  assort 
ment  of  drugs  and  chemicals  have  to  be  used. 

Well,  friend  Daughter  had  used  them. 

A  silent  little  stream  of  wood  alcohol  had  trickled 
down  over  her  left  ear  into  her  startled  bobbed  hair, 
and  on  the  end  of  her  nose  about  six  grains  of  ex 
tract  of  potash  was  sending  out  signals  of  distress 
to  some  spirits  of  turpentine  which  was  burning  on 
top  of  her  right  eyebrow. 

Something  dark  and  lingering  like  iodine  had 
given  her  chin  the  double-cross  and  her  apron  looked 
like  the  remnants  of  a  porous  plaster. 

Her  right  hand  had  red,  white,  green,  purple, 
and  magenta  marks  all  over  it,  and  her  left  hand 
looked  like  the  Fourth  of  July. 

"Father!"  she  yelled;  "here  it  isl  My  goodness, 
I  am  so  excited!  See  what  a  fine  picture  of  you  I 
took!" 

She  handed  me  the  picture,  but  all  I  could  see  was 
a  woodshed  with  the  door  wide  open. 

"A  good  picture  of  the  woodshed,"  I  said;  "but 
whose  woodshed  is  it?" 

"A  woodshed!"  exclaimed  friend  Daughter; 
"why,  that  is  your  face,  Father.  And  where  you 
think  the  door  is  open  is  only  your  mouth  I" 

I  looked  crestfallen  and  then  I  looked  at  the 
picture  again,  but  my  bette'r  nature  asserted  itself 
and  I  made  no  attempt  to  strike  that  defenseless 
girl. 

Then  she  handed  me  another  picture  and  said, 
"Father,  isn't  this  wonderful?" 

I  looked  at  the  picture  and  muttered,  "All  I  can 


SNAP    SHOTS  69 

see  is  the  colored  gardener  walking  across  lots  with 
a  sack  of  flour  on  his  back!" 

"Oh!"  gasped  friend  Daughter,  "how  can  you  ex 
pect  to  see  what  it  is  when  you  are  holding  the  pic 
ture  upside  down?" 

I  turned  the  picture  around,  and  then  I  was  quite 
agreeably  surprised. 

"It's  wonderful!"  I  shouted.  "It's  a  real  thing, 
all  right!  Why,  this  is  splendid!  I  suppose  it  is 
called,  'Moonlight  on  the  St.  John's  River'?  Did 
this  one  come  with  the  camera  or  did  you  draw  it 
from  memory?" 

"The  idea  of  such  a  thing,"  friend  Daughter 
pouted;  "can't  you  see  that  you're  holding  the  picture 
the  wrong  way?  Turn  it  around  and  you  will  see 
what  it  is!" 

I  gave  the  thing  another  turn. 

"Gee  whiz!"  I  said;  "now  I  have  it!  Oh,  the 
limit !  You  wished  to  surprise  me  with  a  picture  of 
the  sunset  at  Governor's  Island.  How  lovely  it  is  I 
See,  over  here  in  this  corner  there's  a  bunch  of 
soldiers  listening  to  what's  cooking  for  supper,  and 
over  here  is  the  smoke  from  the  gun  that  sets  the  sun 
—I  like  it!" 

Then  friend  Daughter  grabbed  the  picture  out  of 
my  hands  and  burst  into  reproachful  speech. 

"Oh,  Father,  why  do  you  try  to  discourage  my 
efforts  to  be  artistic?"  she  Nazimovaded.  "This  is 
a  picture  of  you  holding  Mrs.  Macllvaine's  baby  in 
your  arms,  and  I  think  it's  perfectly  lovely,  even  if 
the  baby  is  crying." 

When  the  exercises  were  over  I  inquired  casually, 


70     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

"Where,  my  dear,  where  are  the  other  21,219  P^c' 
tures  you  snapped  to-day?" 

"Only  these  two  came  out  good  because,  don't 
you  see,  I'm  an  amateur  yet,"  was  her  come-back. 

The  net  result  of  Floridian  views  as  collected  by 
both  Son  and  Daughter  and  highly  approved  of  by 
friend  Wife  is  as  follows: — 

One  portion  of  a  dotted  Swiss  dress  with  a  large 
and  rather  fantastic  sea  shell  in  background,  la- 
bled,  'The  Band  Concert  at  Miami." 

One  shattered  remnant  of  a  trench  in  the  Somme 
Sector,  surmounted  by  sand  bags,  fondly  called  by 
the  perpetrator,  "The  City  Gates,  St.  Augustine." 

A  remarkably  intelligent  looking  Seminole  Indian 
gathering  firewood,  which  turns  out  to  be  none  other 
than  yours  truly  picking  shells  on  Miami  Beach. 

A  telegraph  pole  standing  in  an  attitude  of  em 
barrassed  silence  with  one  of  its  cross-arms  beckon 
ing  to  a  letter  box,  which,  it  appears,  is  friend 
Daughter's  cameraistic  idea  of  how  friend  Son  looks 
while  lighting  his  pipe. 

A  bowlder  in  the  foreground  which  has  evidently 
fallen  from  one  of  the  steep  walls  of  a  canon  which 
must  have  strayed  away  from  Colorado,  labeled, 
"Mother,  in  St.  George  Street,  St.  Augustine." 

A  snappy  little  feather  duster  standing  upside 
down  with  one  of  the  feathers  resting  on  a  plate  of 
oysters — which  was  Son's  idea  of  a  good  picture  of 
Daughter  eating  ice  cream. 

A  bright  knot-hole  in  a  high  board  fence,  en 
titled,  "Morning  on  Matanzas  Bay." 

Two  slightly  used  whiskbrooms,  a  broken  water 


SNAP    SHOTS  71 

pitcher  and  a  futuristic  view  of  something  that  looks 
like  a  cry  for  help,  labelled,  "The  gardens  of  the 
Alcazar,  St.  Augustine." 

A  view  on  the  Indian  river  showing  a  small  oak 
tree  with  hanging  moss,  which  I  considered  quite 
good,  especially  after  it  was  explained  to  me  that 
Daughter's  dog,  "Gyp,"  posed  for  the  entire 
scene. 

A  colored  boy  selling  newspapers  to  the  end  of 
an  automobile  with  a  Georgia  license  plate  on  it, 
called,  "The  Old  Slave  Market,  St.  Augustine." 

Something  that  resembles  three  nervous  looking 
men  handing  money  to  an  almost  human  guide  from 
whose  left  hand  a  cactus  plant  is  growing,  carefully 
inscribed,  "The  Alligator  Farm,  Anastasia  Island." 

A  very  large  and  hitherto  unused  porous  plaster 
with  a  step-ladder  and  four  very  quaint  dog  houses 
m  the  foreground,  which  is  called,  "Yachts  at  An 
chor  in  Biscayne  Bay  at  Miami." 

Side  by  side  two  large  round  sea  shells,  looking 
exactly  alike;  above  these  a  white  sand  dune;  be 
low  and  between  the  sea  shells  a  hillock;  under  the 
hillock  a  long,  straight,  dark  ravine,  supported  by  a 
field  of  stubbly  wheat,  the  entire  production  la 
beled,  "A  Portrait  Study  of  Father." 

An  attenuated  scarecrow  standing  solitary  and 
alone  on  a  dark  night  in  a  very  black  field,  entitled, 
"Palm  Trees  and  White  Sand  on  the  Beach  at  An 
astasia  Island." 

For  my  part,  I'm  glad  my  memory  is  still  on  the 
job;  otherwise,  a  study  of  these  snapshots  would  lead 


72     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

me  to  believe  that  Florida  is  nothing  more  than  a 
tame  nightmare  being  entertained  by  freaks  in  a 
gloomy  junkshop — but  the  kids  think  the  pictures 
are  great,  so  what's  the  use? 


MIAMI 

"My!    Ah,  me!" 

Balmy 

In  the  Winter  sunshine ! 

"My!    Ami?" 

Spry 

As  a  mining  town 

Set  down 

Behind  a  Western  mountain, 

Countin' 

Its  nuggets  of  bright 

Gold  ere  comes  the  night. 

"Me?    Ami?" 

Why 

Do  the  strangers  fly 

To  you  in  Winter  from  the  four, 

Or  more, 

Corners  of  the  earth, 

Adding  to  your  mirth, 

And  the  amounts 

Of  your  bank  accounts? 

It  is  the  climate — 

So  sublime  it 

Coaxes  health  to  come  back  and  stay 

And  stick  for  many  an  added  day. 

"Mammy!" 

No  clammy 

73 


74     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

Silence  there! 

What  with  the  bands  blaring 

And  the  aeroplanes  tearing 

Through  the  air — 

Why,  it's  a  bear — 

Cat  for  Pep! 

Are  you  hep 

That  I 

In  my 

Poor,  artless,  little  Japanese  way 

Have  been  making  a  gay 

Bit  of  an  effort  to  show 

The  various  pronunciations  that  go 

With  "Miami,"  eh? 

Say! 

I've  been 

Trying  to  screen 

A  "movie"  for  you 

Of  the  few 

Methods  of  approaching  the  name 

Of  that  same 

Busy,  bustling  town 

'Way  down 

South  in  the  land  of  grapefruit, 

So  take  whichever  style  may  suit 

Your  fancy.     As  for  mine 

I  rather  incline 

To  Miami — 

You  may  gather  from  the  rhyme  how  I 

Pronounce  it — and  so! 

Let's  go! 

Whether  it  be  "me"  or  "my" 


MIAMI  75 

Miami  is  shy 

On  nothing  except  diffidence. 

Immense, 

Not  in  size, 

But  in  the  eyes 

Of  the  "natives"  who  live  there 

During  such  time  as  they  can  spare 

From  their  birthplaces 

In  Boston,  Mass.,  or  Chicago,  111.,  as  the  cases 

Maybe; 

But  these  "natives"  agree 

And  meet 

And  set  their  feet 

On  one  common  ground 

Which  is,  that  more  suckers  abound 

In  Florida  than  in  their 

Home  town — be  that  where 

It  may, 

So  they  stay 

In  the  "Sunny," 

Observing  the  color  of  the  money 

Which  the  tourists  flash; 

It  is  then  that  the  "natives"  cash 

In  on  the  agility 

With  which  they  show  their  ability 

To  make 

The  stranger  take 

To  the  idea  that  he  needs 

The  deeds 

To  a  smart 

Little  bungalow  and  become  a  part 

Of  the  "native"  pop- 


76     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

Ulation,  with  stop- 
Over  privileges  in  his  erstwhile  home 
In  the  frozen  North,  whence  he  may  roam 
When  all  the  other  "natives"  go, 
With  steps  faltering  and  slow, 
North  to  their  erstwhiles 
And  stay  there  until  the  money  thirst  wiles 
Them  back 
To  stack 
The  shack 

And  become  "natives"  again  in  the  Fall. 
All 

The  real,  blue-blooded  "natives"  park 
Themselves  in  the  dark 
Background, 

And  are  hard  to  be  found. 
You 

Will  notice  that  the  real  "native"  is  few 
And  far  between, 
But  may  be  seen 
Occasionally  paddling  a  droll 
Canoe,  himself  disguised  as  a  Seminole, 
In  the  far  reaches 
Of  one  of  Nature's  peaches 
Of  places — the  Everglades! 
To  the  shades 
Of  the  tall 
Jungle  palms  all 

The  real  "natives"  have  hurried 
Into  retirement,  worried 
By  the  look  of  keen 
Competition  on  the  lean 


MIAMI  77 

Faces 

Of  the  avant  couriers  of  other  races 

Flocking  from  the  North  to  take  up  places 

At  the  receipt  of  customs,  and  otherwise  fit 

Themselves  to  sit 

On  the  Temple  steps  and  barter. 

Smarter 

Than  any  "native"  is  he 

Who  hurries  South  with  the 

Commodity  known  as  "Yankee  thrift," 

And  a  swift 

Eye  to  values — so 

Exit  sullenly  the  slow 

Habitant 

Who  can't 

Compete 

With  the  lad  from  the  effete, 

So  to  speak,  East,  who  can  trade  in 

A  tin 

Automobile  for  seven  acres  of  sand 

And  turn  the  sand  into  land, 

And  put  seven  little  spick  and  span 

Queen  Anne 

Cottages  thereon  and  rent 

The  same  so  he  will  achieve  43  per  cent 

On  his 

Investment.    Modern  biz 

Of  that  vociferous  kind 

Penetrates  the  mind 

Of  the  "native"  in  the  same  way 

The  police  penetrate  a  joint 

Where  the  bartender  continues  to  anoint 


78     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

The  thirst 

With  the  worst 

Kind  of  expensive  boozes 

And  where  no  customer  loses 

A  beat  in  picking 

Up  the  Volstead  Act  and  kicking 

It  on  the  shins. 

All  of  which  knocks  the  pins 

From  under 

The  real  "native"  and  with  wonder 

In  his  sad  eyes 

And  a  number  2  size 

Portmanteau  in  his  hand 

He  hikes  for  the  jungle  land 

Afar, 

Where  the  alligators  are 

Blinking  in  the  swamps; 

And  there  he  romps 

Care  free, 

And  consorts  with  only  the 

Happy  hookworm 

For  the  term 

Of  his  natural  life. 

Far  from  strife, 

Far  from  the  madding  crowd, 

And  the  loud 

Echoes  of  the  hurrying  throng 

Singing  its  ceaseless  song 

Of  Big  Business,  the  real  "native"  can  say 

Pax  Vobiscum !  and  lay 

His  head  upon  a  stump, 

Not  even  troubling  to  jump 


MIAMI  79 

When  he  hears 

The  swift  in-take  of  breath  which  appears 
To  be 
The 

Preliminary  custom  of  the  rattlesnake 
Before  it  decides  to  take 
A  few  bites  from  its  prospective  lunch — 
For  even  snakes  have  a  hunch 
To  keep  away  from  a  lone 
"Native"  who  has  troubles  enough  of  his  own. 
But,  nevertheless,  Miami  by  day 
Is  a  dream  of  green  and  gray 
Delight, 

And  when  the  night 
Falls  o'er  Biscayne  Bay 
And  its  ripples  play 
Tag  with  each  ray 
.Of  moonlight, 

That,  indeed,  is  a  wondrous  sight  I 
Brave  yachts  ride 
On  the  trembling  tide, 
Their  twinkling  lamps  smiling 
At  the  fairy  darkness  which  is  beguiling 
The  on-looker  not  to  call  it  Night. 
Tall  palms,  bedight 
With  the  sheen 
Of  ghostly  green, 
Silhouetted  against  the  far 
Horizon  where  angry  waves  of  the  ocean  are 
Forever  seeking  conflict  with  the  quiet  Bay! 
The  gay 
Strains  of  a  distant  mandolin  coming  o'er 


80     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

The  waters,  and  to  the  shore 

Crooningly  comes  the  Southern  breeze, 

From  over  distant  seas, 

Where  it  has  kissed  forgotten  waves 

And  still  it  saves 

Caresses  for  the  brow  of  this  fair  Night. 

And  now  my  thoughts  take  flight 

To  the  white 

Sands  on  Anastasia  Isle 

With  the  smile 

Of  the  same  moon  on  old  Mantanzas  Bay, 

Where  the  same  ripples  play 

The  same 

Game 

With  each  delighted  ray  1 

And  so,  I  say, 

Mantanzas  and  Biscayne 

Remain 

In  memory  Queens  of  Night  I 

Twin  Sisters  of  Delight 

A  sight 

Fit  to  feast  the  eye 

Of  the  gods,  for  try 

Where  you  may, 

Biscayne  or  Mantanzas  Bay 

Under  a  tropic  moon 

With  the  world-old  tune 

Of  the  distant  sea 

For  an  accompanying  melody, 

Is  the 

Ultimate  in  Beauty,  and  no  gleaming  star 

Is  so  far 


MIAMI  81 

Away 

That  it  cannot  play 

Its  part 

In  Nature's  fairest  Panorama  of  Art. 

Hail!     Miami!     Hail!  and  good-by! 

And,  with  a  passing  sigh, 

Hail,  St.  Augustine ! 

Queen 

Of  MatanzasBay! 

Hail  and  farewell — until  another  day. 


MR.  EIDEL  WEISS 

I  met  him  one  evening  in  the  lounge  of  the  Al 
cazar  in  St.  Augustine. 

He  talked  and  I  listened.  And  so  the  evening 
wore  on. 


I  am  py  birth  A  Sviss  chentleman  py  der  name  of 
Weiss.  Ven  I  vas  qvite  young  in  der  age  I  hat 
such  a  hesitation  in  my  ambition  dot  many  peoples 
t'ought  I  vas  der  laziest  boy  in  our  commune.  I 
t'ink  dot  is  der  reason  vy  my  fadder  christened  me 
py  der  name  of  Eidel.  He  set  dot  for  laziness  I 
vas  der  flower  of  der  family  so  he  called  me  Eidel 
Weiss. 

But  I  ofercrew  dis  pleasant  disease  owing  to  a 
bunch  of  seasickness  I  ackvired  ven  I  emigranted  to 
dis  country  on  a  steamship  vich  dit  a  nautical  shimmy 
all  der  vay  from  Havre  to  der  Hook  of  Sandy. 

It  is  now  forty  years  since  I  came  py  dis  glorious 
land  of  der  Stars  and  Strikes,  bud  to  dis  day  venefer 
I  catch  a  glimpus  of  der  ocean  I  lean  ofer  to  der 
north-vest  und  mit  strange  noises  in  my  t'roat  I  begin 
vigvagging  for  a  doctor. 

Since  I  am  py  dis  country  I  haf  played  many  parts 
in  der  pannermama  ve  call  Life.  Fairst  I  vas  der 
assistant  floorvalker  mit  a  plumber  und  it  vas  dare 

82 


MR.    EIDEL    WEISS  83 

I  learned  how  beautiful  and  eggsciting  is  der  idea 
of  highway  robbery. 

From  den  on  it  vas  der  ambition  of  my  young  life 
to  make  a  name  for  myself  in  der  highway  robbery 
pitzness,  so  I  studied  und  studied  und  finefully  my 
ambition  vas  sterilized  und  I  became  a  head  vaiter. 

All  I  hat  to  do  vas  to  make  a  low  bow  to  a  lot 
of  veil-dressed  peoples,  und  if  dey  hat  der  courage  to 
slip  me  a  cubble  of  dollars  I  vould  point  dem  at  a 
table  und  let  dem  battle  mit  der  menu  card,  because 
none  but  der  brafe  deserf  der  bill  of  fare. 

As  der  poet  says  it,  "All  der  vorld's  a  stage  und 
eferybody  vants  to  be  der  stage  driver."  Vich  is 
true,  bud  only  a  few  know  how  to  handle  der  reins. 
It  ain't  der  vay  you  crack  der  vip,  it's  der  vay  you 
steer  your  horses  dot  gets  you  vare  you  vish  to  vent 
in  dis  vorld. 

A  head  vaiter  mit  a  pleasant  smile  and  a  keen 
knowletch  of  polite  robbery  can  get  far  ouid  on  der 
road  to  riches  eggspecially  if  he  has  a  chack-knife 
attachments  between  der  collar-bone  und  der  sub- 
basement  vich  permissions  him  to  bow  politefully  for 
eight  hours  a  day  mitouid  losing  der  smile  vich  goes 
mit  it. 

Und  so  it  aind  long  before  my  leedle  bank  account 
crew  und  crew  und  efery  night  I  vould  go  home  mit 
der  spoils  und  say  my  prayers  to  Jesse  James. 

Und  ven  it  came  time  to  buy  Liperty  Bonds  I  vas 
able  to  go  ouid  und  pick  up  an  armful  big  enough  to 
paper  t'ree  rooms  in  our  apartment. 

As  der  poet  says  it,  "Dem  dot  has — gits."  Und 
nefer  vas  a  truer  vord  spoken  from  der  chest  ouid. 


84     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

Holding  up  a  train  has  der  disatvantagement  of  cli 
mate  und  perhaps  der  moon  ain't  right  on  a  t'ick 
fog  might  come  und  spoil  der  toot  assemble  or  some- 
ding.  Bud  ven  a  veil-meaning  head  vaiter  stands 
smiling  in  front  of  a  money-lined  chentlemans  mit  a 
desire  in  his  heart  to  get  a  table  near  der  chazz  band 
so  he  can  vatch  der  vimmens  shaking  deir  camosoles 
it  is  der  biggest  skinch  vich  has  yet  been  discofered 
by  der  Columbuses  of  Graft. 

Veil,  anyvay,  after  being  at  der  Rich  Hotel  for 
a  cubble  of  years,  und  hafing  made  Captain  Kitt  und 
der  price  privateers  und  Robert  Hood  und  Richard 
Dick  Vittington  und  Americus  Vesuvius  und  all  dem 
udder  pirates  look  like  a  flock  of  Sunday  school  boys 
I  got  a  idea  in  der  head  und  I  vent  home  to  speak 
abouid  it  to  Mrs.  Eidel  Weiss,  because  I  always  in 
sult  her  abouid  everyt'ing. 

"Mrs.  Eidel  Weiss,  my  dear,"  I  set  to  her,  "I 
haf  an  idea!" 

"Really,"  she  responded,  mit  a  scornful  up-turn 
ing  of  der  eyebrows.  "Is  it  annoying  you  mit  much 
pain  or  does  it  took  der  formation  of  a  fever?  An 
idea  in  your  head,  my  dear  Eidel,  is  in  der  same  po 
sition  as  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land  und  ve  must 
be  kind  mit  strangers.  Leave  us  approach  mit  cau 
tion  dis  idea  vich  py  some  mistake  has  strayed  into 
your  head.  It  may  be  timid  und  stampede  und  leave 
feet-tracks  all  ofer  your  brain,  is  it  not  so,  Eidel?" 

You  know,  efer  since  I  took  all  my  safings  and 
financialed  a  munitions  factory  during  der  var  and 
made  myself  a  fortune,  Mrs.  Eidel  Weiss  has  been 
afflictioned  mit  sarcasm  of  der  langvitch.  She  gets 


MR.    EIDEL    WEISS  85 

dis  habit  from  a  friend  of  hers  by  der  name  of  Mrs. 
Muffin  vich  has  a  husband  vich  made  a  fortune  ven 
he  inventioned  a  paper  match  dot  breaks  in  two  at 
der  fishological  moment  ven  you  vish  to  light  your 
cigar  in  a  hurry.  Mrs.  Muffin  is  vot  der  French 
call  a  nouveau-riche — vich  means  a  fresh  rich. 

A  fresh  rich  is  a  person  vich  gets  good  money 
faster  den  dey  get  good  manners. 

Mrs.  Muffin  believes  in  sarcasting  her  langvitch 
ven  speaking  mit  her  husband  und  der  udder  serv 
ants  in  der  house,  und  Mrs.  Weiss,  vich  is  alvays  on 
der  lookouid  for  somet'ing  new  in  household  amuse 
ments,  has  introductioned  dis  idea  in  our  home  mit 
der  result  dot  der  servants  vich  formally  became  olt 
und  gray  in  our  service  py  spending  nearly  a  veek 
mit  us  now  leave  like  der  trains  from  New  York  for 
Phillymadelphia — every  hour  on  der  hour. 

Veil,  anyvay,  ven  Mrs.  Weiss  sarcasticated  me  I 
responsed  her  briefly,  "Voman,"  I  set,  "many  ideas 
get  in  my  head  und  many  ideas  get  ouid  again.  A 
man's  brain  is  like  a  railroad  station  vich  is  no  good 
mit  all  going  ouid  and  nothing  coming  in.  A  vise 
man's  brain  should  be  like  a  reception  committee 
und  should  shake  hands  und  smile  at  efery  idea  dot 
comes  up  to  it.  If  you  doan'd  like  der  idea  after 
you  smile  at  it,  awoid  it  der  next  time.  Bud,  voman, 
my  dear,  ven  a  person  gets  der  notion  in  her  head 
dot  sarcasting  her  husband  is  vun  of  der  keenest  of 
indoor  sports  den  her  brain  vill  soon  become  like 
Tennyson's  cook — vich  is  leaving  forefer." 

Mrs.  Weiss  yust  looked  at  me,  gulped  a  cubble 
of  times  und  fell  backvards  und  subsidized  veakly 


86     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

on  der  sofa,  breathing  deeply  through  her  nose, 
beaten,  crushed,  vounded  to  der  heart,  but  cured  of 
her  sarcasticalness — for  der  time  being. 

"Vot,  Eidel,"  she  set  after  a  slight  silence,  "Vot 
is  dis  nice  idea  vich  has  moofed  into  der  nice  fur 
nished  room  under  your  nice  roof — tell  me,  Eidel, 
please  1" 

"Voman,  my  dear,"  I  set,  "I  vas  now  rich  enough 
to  say  dot  money  ain'd  eferyding  in  dis  vorld — und 
believe  it  is  true  ven  I  say  it.  A  lot  of  men  spend 
der  best  part  of  deir  lives  getting  rich  und  der  rest 
of  deir  lives  holding  on  to  it.  Und  den  all  of  a  sud- 
dent  dot  old  rascal  called  Death  comes  along,  picks 
deir  pockets,  snatches  deir  bankroll  und  sends  dem 
on  a  long  woyage  midouid  a  penny  to  bless  demselfs 
mit — so  vot  is  der  use  ?  Now,  Voman,  my  dear,  my 
idea  is  dis.  I  vill  gif  up  working  und  make  myself 
into  a  retirement,  und  mit  der  childrens  ve  vill  trafel, 
und  trafel  und  see  der  vorld.  In  der  vinter  time  ve 
vill  go  to  Florida  und  vish  ve  vas  in  California.  Der 
next  vinter  ve  vill  go  to  California  und  vish  ve  vas 
in  Florida.  In  der  summer  for  a  leedle  vile  ve  vill  go 
to  der  Catskin  Mountains  und  for  annuder  leedle 
vile  ve  vill  go  py  Newport  und  see  der  bare  skins  in 
der  svim.  In  udder  vords,  Voman,  my  dear,  ve  vill 
enchoy  der  money  dot  I  made  vile  ve  vas  lifing,  be 
cause  aftervards  if  I  take  gold  mit  me  to  vun  place 
dey  vill  use  it  to  make  streets,  und  if  I  take  my  paper 
money  to  der  udder  place  it  vill  burn — so  vot's  der 
use?  Dare,  Voman,  my  dear,  is  der  big  idea!  I 
vill  make  a  retirement  from  der  pizness  of  making 


MR.    EIDEL    WEISS  87 

money  under  false  expenses,  und  ve  vill  trafel  und 
see  der  vorld!" 

Mrs.  Weiss  yust  looked  at  me  und  set,  "Who  vill 
ve  get  to  bring  der  trunks  up  ouid  of  der  basement?" 

Can  you  beat  such? 

Here  I  haf  made  der  most  important  epochs  of 
my  life.  I  haf  t'rown  oferboard  mit  vun  fell  soup 
all  der  additions  of  a  lifetime;  I  haf  cut  der  cable 
vich  anchors  me  to  der  bed  rock  of  easy  money  and 
my  wife  calmfully  inkvires  who  vill  bring  der  trunks 
up  from  der  basement ! 

Ain't  dot  a  vimmens? 


COME   YE   BACK! 

"Those  who  once  get  the  sand  of  St.  Augustine  in 
their  shoes  and  stray  away  into  far  lands  will  ever 
after  have  a  longing  in  their  hearts  to  return  to  the 
Ancient  Town." — Indian  Legend. 


I  am  weary  of  the  City 

And  the  never-ceasing  beat 
Of  the  hurried  onward  trampling 

Of  a  hundred  thousand  feet; 
And  my  thoughts  turn  always  Southward 

To  that  spot  so  far  away 
Where  the  breezes  through  the  palm  trees 

Make  them  beckon  me  and  say, 
"Come  ye  back  and  rest  beneath  us  I 

Come  ye  back,  now  don't  refuse!" 
O  the  sand  of  old  St.  Augustine 

Is  surely  in  my  shoes! 


II 


I  am  standing  on  the  ramparts 
Of  the  Fort  so  grimly  gray 
88 


COMEYEBACK!  89 

Where  the  breezes  romp,  then  scurry 

Over  blue  Matanzas  Bay; 
And  I'm  gazing  off  to  seaward 

Where  the  distant  breakers  roar, 
And  they  murmur  while  caressing 

Anastasia's  lovely  shore, 
"Come  ye  back  again  and  watch  us! 

Come  ye  back,  now  don't  refuse!" 
O  the  sand  of  old  St.  Augustine 

Is  surely  in  my  shoes. 


Ill 


I  am  strolling  in  the  sunlight 

Through  the  street  of  George  the  Saint 
With  its  overhanging  balconies 

And  buildings  queerly  quaint; 
There  a  mocking  bird  is  singing 

In  a  cage  above  a  door, 
And  in  memory  I  hear  him 

Trilling  sweetly  o'er  and  o'er, 
"Come  ye  back  again  and  listen  I 

Come  ye  back,  now  don't  refuse  I" 
O  the  sand  of  old  St.  Augustine 

Is  surely  in  my  shoes. 


IV 

I'm  lounging  in  the  Swimming  Pool, 
Where  Youth  in  muscle  grows, 


90     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

Where  "Forrest"  goes  "a-snagging" 

With  his  glasses  on  his  nose; 
Where  the  "Judge"  with  jokes  is  present — 

Also  "Apple,"  "Mills"  and  "Dike," 
And  I  seem  to  hear  a  whisper 

From  a  tiny  little  tyke, 
"Come  ye  back  again,  applaud  us! 

Come  ye  back,  now  don't  refuse!" 
O  the  sand  of  old  St.  Augustine 

Is  surely  in  my  shoes. 


On  the  Highway  out  to  Hastings, 

Where  the  grand  "peraties"  are, 
I  am  riding  with  "Bob"  Stephens 

In  his  nifty  jaunting  car; 
Brown  and  Felkel  mark  the  miles  off 

As  we  gayly  speed  along, 
And  methinks  I'm  sure  and  certain 

This  the  burden  of  their  song, 
"Come  ye  back,  come  back,  you're  welcome  I 

Come  ye  back,  now  don't  refuse !" 
O  the  sand  of  old  St.  Augustine 

Is  surely  in  my  shoes. 


VI 

I  am  dreaming  in  the  Plaza 

When  the  Dark  hath  fallen  down 


COMEYEBACK!  91 

And  the  peace  of  other  ages 

Settles  o'er  the  sleeping  town; 
Southern  stars  are  brightly  gleaming 

And  the  Night-winds  pasing  by, 
Crooning  gently,  crooning  softly, 

'Round  about  me  pause  and  sigh, 
"Come  ye  back!  come  back  and  rest  ye! 

Come  ye  back,  now  don't  refuse!" 
O  the  sand  of  old  St.  Augustine 

Is  surely  in  my  shoes. 


VII 

Years  and  years  may  roll  between  us 

And  it  may  be  Fate's  decree 
That  those  kindly,   smiling  faces 

Nevermore  in  Life  I'll  see; 
But  while  Mem'ry  lives  I'll  picture 

Waving  palms  that  beckon  me, 
And  the  wild  birds  to  my  heart  shall 

Ever  sing  this  melody, 
"Come  ye  back,  come  back  among  us! 

Come  ye  back,  now  don't  refuse!" 
O  the  sand  of  old  St.  Augustine 

Is  surely  in  my  shoes. 


THE  BOOK  OF  RO  TARY 

In  St.  Augustine — in  the  oldest  house  in  the  old 
est  city  in  our  new  world  oftentimes  have  I  browsed 
amongst  the  relics  of  by-gone  days,  and  pondered 
thereon. 

It  may  be  that  on  this  particular  occasion  within 
those  memory-haunted  walls  I  dreamed,  but  dream 
ing  or  waking  methought  I  came  upon  an  ancient 
tome — a  book,  mildewed  with  age,  finger-printed  by 
the  passing  of  innumerable  years  and  thumb-marked 
by  antiquity. 

Dreaming  or  waking,  I  marked  it  well,  for  I  re 
member  almost  its  every  word,  and  those  words  I 
shall  set  down  herewith  and  await  the  honor  of  your 
perusal. 

The  title  oage  of  this  ancient  book  read  in  this 
wise: 

"Ye  Booke  of  Ro  Tary  which  ye  same  hath  been 
translated  from  ye  Tueroglyphics  on  ye  ancient 
toombes  of  ye  Kings  in  Egypt  and  is  herewith  made 
into  ye  Englishe  language  by  Brother  Sebastian, 
Anno  Domino,  Seventeen  Hundred  and  Sixty-Four" 

Then  followed  on  the  next  page  the  introduction 
to  the  original  "Book"  which  had  been  written  upon 

92 


THE    BOOK    OF    RO    TARY         93 

stone  by  an  Egyptian  historian  when  the  second  Ra- 
meses  was  a  child  in  arms. 


And  I,  GEOR,  the  Scribe,  have  collected  these 
thoughts  and  I  have  graven  them  upon  stone  hard 
by  the  Temple  of  Isis. 

And  I  have  put  these  thought  upon  stone  and  they 
shall  abide  here  near  the  great  market  place  so  that 
those  who  run  may  read  and  give  heed  thereto. 

And  many  wise  men  in  Egypt  have  already  drawn 
nigh  and  have  signified  their  approval. 

And  they  are  known  to  be  wise  men  and  there  are 
none  wiser  in  all  Egypt,  from  the  Pyramids,  which 
are  now  building,  to  the  remotest  boundary. 

And  these  men  are  by  name  the  following: 

JON  GAN  NON,  who  doth  make  a  great  light  to 
illumine  our  homes  and  when  the  bill  doth  come  for 
ward  for  this  illumination  many  are  those  who  do 
protest  wrongfully  at  its  enormity  with  much  froth 
ing  at  the  mouth. 

Jo  RAH  NER,  who  holdeth  in  the  hollow  of  his 
hand  all  travel  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  and  if  thou 
kickest  because  thou  hast  drawn  an  upper  when  thou 
wisheth  a  lower  berth  he  will  tell  thee  where  thou 
gettest  off. 

GEOB  ASSETT,  who  standeth  high  in  the  favor  of 
Rameses,  the  King,  as  a  prophet  of  the  law,  and  who 
will  one  day  be  a  Grand  Vizier  in  Lower  Egypt. 

CHAR  LES  YOUNG,  who  hath  a  kindly  soul  and 
who  doth  keep  a  caravansary  hard  by  the  fortifica 
tions  where  in  the  shadow  of  his  friendly  smile  voy- 


ageurs  may  rest  a  weary  head  save  only  when  they 
are  disturbed  by  motor  boats  upon  the  Nile. 

XAV  IER  Lo  FEZ,  who  hath  a  surprising  bazaar 
hard  by  the  water  front,  whence  go  many  purchasers, 
even  from  distant  Nineveh,  and  Babylon  and  Pa- 
latka. 

JIMING  RA  HAM,  who  hath  land  to  sell  thee  to  suit 
thine  every  purpose,  and  if  thou  hast  no  purpose  he 
will  sell  it  thee  anyway. 

GASSOW  AYLA  MAR,  he  who  is  high  in  finance  and 
hath  the  treasures  of  Rameses  in  his  keeping  and 
hath  also  that  which  few  High  Treasurers  possess, 
a  kind  and  courtly  manner  the  which  he  has  con 
stantly  with  him  and  locks  it  never  in  his  vaults. 

BOBST  EPHENS,  who  doth  supply  with  food  the 
dwellers  in  the  Palace,  aye,  even  doth  he  send  food 
to  those  who  live  in  tents,  and  is  ever  in  high  es 
teem. 

O  Tis  BAR  NES,  who  doth  wager  with  thee  large 
sums  of  money  that  plagues  of  fire  shall  not  burn 
thy  bungalows  and  neither  shall  plagues  of  grass 
hoppers  destroy  the  breakfast  food  growing  in  thy 
fields,  and  if,  peradventure,  he  is  in  error  then  doth 
he  pay  thee  promptly. 

ALB  ERT  WAL  KER,  whose  reward  shall  be  great 
when  cometh  the  final  allotment,  for  he  ministers 
to  those  who  walk  in  darkness  and  he  is  their  staff 
to  lean  upon. 

FREDHEND  ER  ICH,  who  draweth  for  thee  the 
symbols  of  thy  future  habitation  and  who  buildeth 
it  for  thee  and  when  thou  movest  in  thou  findest  it 
ever  as  thou  specified  and  he  remaineth  thy  friend. 


THE    BOOK    OF    RO    TARY          95 

MUR  RAY  SEA  GEARS,  who  is  the  physician  ex 
traordinary  to  Rameses,  the  King,  and  is  a  man  of 
great  skill  who  goeth  among  the  poor  with  cooling 
hands  to  allay  their  fever  even  as  he  goeth  among 
the  rich. 

CLAREN  CELA  MONT,  who  is  a  tamer  of  devil- 
waggons  and  who  doth  look  the  deadly  six-cylinder 
in  the  eye  without  fear  or  trembling. 

OL  LIEF  ANT,  who  will  transport  thee  across  the 
Nile  in  his  red  barouches  even  unto  the  abode  of 
the  crocodiles,  and  who  sendeth  parchments  abroad 
with  many  frozen  figures  thereon,  but  whose  kindly 
eye  gives  no  man  the  ice-house  glare. 

FRAN  KPAR  KER,  who  when  the  plague  of  blow 
outs  falleth  upon  thee  and  maketh  thee  tired,  will 
tire  thee  over  and  over  again  until  thou  art  tired 
of  being  tired,  whereupon  he  will  cause  thy  battery 
to  be  recharged  and  thou  shalt  rejoice. 

CLAU  DES  MITH,  who  hath  a  fancy  bazaar  where 
the  ladies  of  the  court  of  Rameses  are  wont  to  sit  by 
the  hour,  pricing  this  and  pricing  that  and  finding 
great  pleasure  in  pawing  the  precious  silks,  but  pur 
chasing  infrequently. 

HEN  RY  HANKB  ROWN,  who  compileth  the  day's 
doing  and  layeth  all  these  before  Rameses  at  even 
tide  ;  who  is  known  in  both  Upper  and  Lower  Egypt 
as  a  goodly  scout  with  an  earnest  desire  to  serve  his 
people,  an  unsullied  appetite  and  a  splendid  Record. 

HERBF  EL  KEL,  who  is  also  a  Scribe  and  who 
hath  a  wit  so  nimble  that  it  is  even  as  a  whirling 
dervish  in  a  Joseph's  coat  of  many  colors  dancing 
in  the  sunlight;  and  with  a  stencil  on  papyrus  he 


96     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

prints  many  quaint  thoughts  and  lays  these  before 
Rameses,  whereupon  the  King  laugheth  immoder 
ately,  and  exclaimeth,  "Herbf  El  Kel,  of  a  verity, 
thou  art  a  case!  Why  does  a  chicken — ha,  ha,  ha, 
ha !  Thou  hast  made  my  sides  to  ache  and  for  this 
thy  name  shall  be  spread  even  as  a  pleasant  smile 
over  all  of  Egypt.  Why  does  a  chicken — ha,  ha,  ha, 
ha!— Oh,  boy!" 

And  these  are  the  wise  men  of  Egypt  and  they 
are  my  friends  and  they  are  witness  that  I  have 
graven  upon  stone  the  words  which  hereinafter  fol- 
loweth : 

And  this  is  the  Book  of  Ro  Tary. 

And  in  these  days  there  are  Giants  and  they  dwell 
in  that  which  is  called  Ro  Tary. 

And  Ro  Tary  is  built  upon  a  High  Spot  in  the 
Land  of  Endeavor. 

And  those  who  dwell  in  Ro  Tary  are  men  of  clear 
vision  and  they  are  concerned  'with  the  Future  of 
all  things. 

And  in  Ro  Tary  they  worship  a  goddess  named 
Truth. 

And  this  goddess  named  Truth  is  ever  a  partner 
in  their  business  enterprises,  and  it  is  she  who  makes 
them  to  flourish  even  as  a  bay  tree. 

And  those  who  fail  to  lay  sacrifices  at  the  feet 
of  the  goddess  named  Tfuth,  and  who  cease  to  do 
her  homage,  find  themselves  full  soon  far  from  Ro 
Tary,  and  they  go  to  live  in  barren  lands  and  are  dis 
consolate. 

And  there  is  a  budding  vine  in  Ro  Tary  and  from 
this  vine  is  extracted  the  Milk  of  Human  Kindness. 


THE    BOOK    OF    RO    TARY          97 

And  in  Ro  Tary  this  Milk  of  Human  Kindness 
is  the  favorite  beverage. 

And  there  are  no  cows,  neither  is  there  any  bull 
in  Ro  Tary. 

And  there  are  feast  days  in  Ro  Tary  and  those 
who  dwell  therein  sit  them  down  to  that  which  is 
called  a  Lun  Cheon. 

And  at  that  which  is  called  a  Lun  Cheon  there  are 
many  viands  and  those  who  dwell  in  Ro  Tary  say 
one  unto  the  other,  "Let  us  eat,  drink  and  make 
merry  for  with  the  passing  of  the  hour  we  shall  be 
back  in  our  counting  houses!" 

And  at  these  Lun  Cheons  in  Ro  Tary  they  par 
take  of  the  Mince  of  the  Chicken,  and  the  Mash  of 
the  Potato  and  the  Stew  of  the  Corn,  and  they  make 
•merry,  mentioning  in  kindly  manner  one  and  an 
other's  foibles. 

And  even  as  they  eat  the  Mash  of  the  Potato 
and  the  Stew  of  the  Corn  their  ears  are  attuned  to 
catch  such  words  of  wisdom  as  may  fall  from  their 
neighbor's  lips. 

And  those  who  dwell  in  Ro  Tary  are  ever  kind 
to  the  Stranger  within  their  Gates,  and  they  bid  him 
also  to  be  present  at  their  Lun  Cheon. 

And  the  Stranger  within  their  Gates  is  enthroned 
and  made  much  of. 

And  willing  hands  crowd  upon  his  plate  the  Mince 
of  the  Chicken  and  the  Stew  of  the  Corn,  and  honest 
voices  make  him  a  royal  welcome. 

And  when  the  moments  of  mastication  are  over 
the  Stranger  within  the  Gates  is  invited  to  speak 
briefly,  for  the  dwellers  in  Ro  Tary  are  ever  eager 


98     IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

to  gaze  upon  the  precious  stones  of  thought  which 
strangers  from  far  lands  sometimes  carry  with  them. 

And  if,  peradventure,  the  Stranger  prove  himself 
to  be  that  which  is  called  an  Onion,  and  orates  pom 
pously  for  that  length  of  time  which  is  called  inter 
minable,  and  utters  no  precious  stones  of  thought 
save  only  those  which  concern  himself  and  his  man 
servants  and  his  maid-servants  and  his  oxen  and  his 
asses,  then  do  those  who  dwell  in  Ro  Tary  show  the 
gentleness  of  their  breeding,  for  they  throw  at  the 
Stranger  none  of  that  which  is  called  the  Stew  of  the 
Corn,  neither  do  they  hurl  in  his  direction  the  Sliver 
of  the  Pie. 

And  when  the  Stranger  hath  fully  explained  that 
he  is  a  self-made  man  and  hath  produced  all  the 
original  blue-prints,  and  hath  told  how  proud  he  is  of 
his  own  achievement  in  subtracting  nothing  from 
nothing  and  having  one  to  carry,  and  hath  sat  him 
down  in  his  pride,  and  hath  ceased  from  troubling, 
then  do  those  who  dwell  in  Ro  Tary  applaud  him 
loudly  and  with  shining  eyes,  for  such  is  the  good 
ness  in  their  hearts  that  they  will  swat  no  one  who 
partakes  of  Lun  Cheon  with  them,  save  only  the 
flies. 

And  there  is  no  Deceit  in  Ro  Tary,  for  long  be 
fore  the  Stranger  had  arrived  they  drank  deep  of 
their  favorite  beverage  which  is  the  Milk  of  Hu 
man  Kindness,  and  they  were  prepared  for  any 
emergency,  even  unto  the  uttermost. 

And  they  have  a  Song  in  Ro  Tary,  and  that  Song 
is  not  written  in  flats,  neither  is  it  written  in  sharps, 
but  is  sung  ever  in  that  key  which  is  called  b-natural. 


THE    BOOK    OF    RO    TARY          99 

And  this  is  the  Song  they  sing  in  Ro  Tary : 

Let  the  green  grass  grow 

All  around,  all  around; 
Let  the  old  rain  softly  fall; 

Let  the  flowers  spring  up 

From  the  ground,  from  the  ground; 
Let  the  wild  birds  sweetly  call. 

There  is  sun  enough 

To  shine  for  us  all, 
If  we  don't 

Stand  back  in  the  shade; 
There  is  joy  galore 

For  every  man — 
//  not — 

Then  more  will  be  made 

By  the  Ro  Ro  Ro  Ro  Rotary! 

(By  the  Ro!  By  the  Ro!  By  the  Ro!) 
To  Smiles  be  a  Vo  Vo  Votary — 

(Let  'er  go!    Let  'er  go!   Let  'er  go!) 
If  Grouch  wants  to  sell  you 

Melancholy  or  the  Blues 
Kick  him  out  of  your  office, 

Put  some  Pep  in  your  Shoes — 
Get  a  Smile  on  your  face, 

Keep  it  there  and  Enthuse 
With  the  Ro! 
With  the  Ro! 

With  the  Ro!  Ro!  Ro! 
With  the  Ro  Ro  Ro  Ro  Rotary! 


100  IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

And  those  who  dwell  in  Ro  Tary  are  of  a  keen 
perception,  albeit  they  frolic  betimes  as  becometh 
all  wise  men,  yet  do  they  frivol  never. 

And  -they  are  not  that  which  is  called  a  Club  and 
which  hath  for  its  foundation  the  shifting  sands  of 
sociability;  rather  are  they  a  Blessing  to  the  Com 
munity,  for  they  are  steadfast  in  the  Right. 

And  those  who  dwell  in  Ro  Tary  are  Argus-eyed, 
and  each  eye  searcheth  out  only  that  which  is  for 
the  general  good  of  the  Commonweal. 

And  there  are  dreamers  of  dreams  in  Ro  Tary 
and  there  are  also  magicians  who  turn  those  dreams 
into  glorious  realities,  and  in  this  manner  are  the 
eternal  verities  observed. 

And  they  have  Laws  in  Ro  Tary  and  these  Laws 
are  the  Keystone  in  their  triumphal  arch  of  Success. 

And  these  are  their  Laws : 

I 

Thou  shalt  not  worship  money,  but  thou  shalt 
hold  it  in  high  esteem  lest  in  the  midst  of  Assets 
thou  art  in  Liabilities. 

II 

Thou  shalt  remember  that  fair-dealing  is  thy  chief 
stock  in  trade,  and  when  thou  runneth  out  of  fair- 
dealing  thou  also  runneth  out  of  business. 

Ill 

Thou  shalt  not  kill  the  smile  upon  thy  neighbor's 
face. 


THE   BOOK    OF    RO    TARY        101 

IV 

Thou  shalt  not  covet  thy  neighbor's  jitney,  nor  his 
talking  machine,  nor  his  wife's  ability  to  brew  un- 
sanctified  beer  in  their  private  catacombs,  for  he 
who  findeth  time  to  covet  is  a  loafer,  and  he  who 
loafeth  hath  discovered  the  pathway  to  Oblivion. 


Thou    shalt   not    steal    thy  neighbor's   thunder. 
Rather  shalt  thou  manufacture  thine  own  thunder, 
for  the  Heavens  are  wide  and  there  is  room  therein 
'for  every  Big  Noise. 

VI 

Thou  shalt  honor  thy  name  and  thy  Promissory 
Note  that  thy  days  may  be  long  in  the  Land  of 
Business. 

VII 

Thou  shalt  remember  the  Lun  Cheon  day  and 
keep  it  wholly  in  mind,  for  on  that  day  thou  shalt 
exchange  ideas  one  with  another  and  be  comforted. 

VIII 

Thou  shalt  not  be  a  seeker  after  Easy  Money,  for 
he  who  seeketh  Easy  Money  is  a  follower  of  the 
Will  o'  the  Wisp  which  leadeth  ever  into  the 
Swamps  of  Despair. 


IDLE    MOMENTS    IN    FLORIDA 

IX 

Thou  shalt  view  thy  services  to  thy  Community 
as  a  pleasurable  burden,  and  thou  shalt  not  find  this 
burden  heavy,  neither  shalt  thou  drop  this  burden 
until  thin  eyes  are  dimmed  by  age  and  thy  body 
weary  in  well-doing. 

X 

Thou  shalt  put  thine  own  business  first,  but  if  thy 
Community  calleth  thee  then  shalt  thou  make  an 
swer  and  say,  "The  first  shall  be  last,"  and  doing 
this  thou  shalt  be  a  precept  to  thy  neighbor  and  a 
lamp  to  his  feet. 


THE  END 


THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSE ~i   O/  CALIFOJRJMA 
LOS  ANGELES 


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